Welcome to City 17
by Super Chocolate Bear
Summary: The entire planet is under Combine rule, and the human resistance struggles to survive. But then a misplaced scientist steps off a train, and everything changes.
1. Point Insertion

Disclaimer: I don't own _Half-Life._

_**Welcome to City 17**_

_**Chapter One: Point Insertion**_

The blackness surrounded him. Consumed him.

Seconds passed.

Then…

"Rise and shine, _Mis_ter Freeman… rise, and… _shine_…"

Gordon didn't feel his eyes open. And yet, there before him, the distorted image of the Man in the suit swirled into being around him, as though Gordon were inside his eye and slowly moving outwards.

As the Man spoke, his every syllable extended and twisted, an image permeated into being from the blackness behind him. The Anomalous Materials test chamber, the familiar whirring of the machinery as the barrel-shaped phase two emitters circled the sample area. Only two days ago…

"Not… that I wish to imply you have been sleeping on… the job. No-one is more deserving of a rest, and all the effort in the world would have gone to waste, until… well, let's just say that your hour has… come again."

The scene faded and shifted behind the Man, his face becoming transparent, shadowy. A metal canyon, walls on either side littered with coffin sized blue metal objects. Mechanical claws reached down from above, lifting and sorting the coffins to seemingly random locations with speed Gordon couldn't even follow. The Man's smile grew as the image faded and he floated further and further away from his 'employee'.

"The right… man in the wrong… place can make all the difference in the world. So… wake up, Mister Freeman… wake up and, smell the ashes…"

As he spoke, he became more tangible, more real, the pale blue of his suit, the purple of his tie, the dull green of his eyes… all of them, so real that Gordon could almost reach out and touch him. The surroundings changed again, swirling and coalescing into a train. He was on a train, and yet, still not, the image of the tram around him blurred and constantly shifting.

With one final smirk, the Man disappeared with a flash of white light, and Gordon did his best to squint. A train horn greeted him as the white light quickly faded, depositing him once again in the real world.

Wherever the hell in the real world he was. This sure didn't look like Black Mesa. But for a moment, it was Earth, and that was all that Gordon needed. He had just spent God knows how long in a world of aliens and portals. It would be nice to breath fresh air and speak to human beings again.

But, the fact that he didn't recognise anything concerned him at least a bit. And what had the Man been saying? 'The right man in the wrong place'? Was this the wrong place?

Gordon looked around the rusting tram as it loudly chugged along the rails. Small scribbles of graffiti marked the yellowing walls. The state of red cushions of the benches running down either side of the train reminded him of the Black Mesa trams. Looking through the thin windows, Gordon could see broken buildings passing them as they pulled into a city and towards a station.

Moss grew on the walls, and Gordon was surprised at how relieved he was to see Earth moss. Having been surrounded by luminescent fauna and fleshy trampolines in the ground for two days, it was refreshing to see good old greenery. The train bumped on something and Gordon reached out for the bar beside him, the peeling paint feeling rough beneath his fingers. Gordon looked at his hand in surprise. His fingers. Not the gloves of his HEV suit.

Looking down, Gordon took in what he was now wearing. Black lace-ups, denim pants and a denim shirt. On the left side of his chest he saw a thin, blank strip of white stitched to his chest. It looked just big enough to show a name. Or a serial number. He also found that every ache and pain was gone from his body. Rolling his fingers over his neck, he also found that the stubble he had grown over the past two days had since vanished. Almost as if he had… regenerated.

Or something.

He looked down the tram. There were two other people waiting for the train to stop. One was waiting by the double doors, holding onto a bar beside him and clutching his worn suitcase like it was all he had. Another sat on a bench behind him and further down the tram, staring idly at the floor over the suitcase clutched on his lap. They were both wearing the same clothes as him. Almost like a… uniform. Shaking the observation away, Gordon went to the closest passenger first, a black man with greying stubble and evident bags under his eyes. As Gordon approached, he frowned.

"I didn't see you get on."

He didn't sound negative. He didn't even sound surprised. Just a sort of mild curiosity, as though he didn't really care. But Gordon didn't mind. He had questions racing through his mind faster than he could register. Was this near Black Mesa? Did this person even know what Black Mesa was? Did he know anyone he could contact to ask about Black Mesa?

The man just sighed and shook his head. "This is my third transfer this year," he muttered, a tone of a sarcastic 'can you believe it?' seeping through his voice.

Gordon's mouth formed a thin line. "What do you mean?"

The look he got back made Gordon think he had just grown another head.

"_You've _been drinking too much water."

Now _that _was just even more confusing. Water? What the hell did that mean? But that seemed to be the end of the conversation with the first passenger, who took to casting his irritated gaze out onto the passing scenery.

Adjusting his glasses (which, he noted, were now completely clean of battle and Xen related stains), Gordon walked past him and to the man sitting down. He leant against the bar above him, not wanting to sit down beside him for fear of alienating him as well. But this man did not look well. His hair indicated hasty buzz cuts, random patches of flesh glaring out from the short brown hair.

"Are… you all right?"

With bleary, tired eyes, the man looked up at him, his voice quiet and thoughtful.

"No matter how many times I get relocated, I can never… get used to it. You know?"

Gordon opened his mouth to reply, to question, to find out _what the hell was going on. _But instead, not wanting to elicit the same reaction from this passenger as he had the first, Gordon just nodded, a comforting smile on his lips.

With a wheeze, the brakes of the train started to kick in, and both Gordon and the passenger at the door swayed with the motion as the train ground to a slow, screeching halt at the train station.

"Well," the doorman groaned, straightening his back and spreading his shoulders, "end of the line."

With a quiet hiss, the doors opened, and the man stepped out onto the platform below. The man beside Gordon climbed to his feet and gently pushed his way past, only a single furtive glance shot at him by way of apology. His head firmly tucked down, the man stepped out of the train and out onto the platform.

Gordon, thoroughly frustrated at what his limited detective skills had been able to uncover, followed suit, only then realising how strange he must look stepping off the barren train with no luggage. It was obviously a long journey, judging by the equal irritation and desperation they showed at having been transferred.

A low beeping drew Gordon's attention upwards. Floating towards him, a metal device roughly the size of a trash can floated towards him. A single red iris in the centre was framed by four wings spreading out and back on either side. Behind it, a fairly lengthy metal tail extended out back. It basically looked like a huge mechanical eye.

As it floated over him, it suddenly seemed to acknowledge his presence and banked down like a fighter plane, hovering just in front of him and blocking his path. Gordon looked into the iris, and was promptly blinded by a flash of white light.

"Gah!"

His voice echoed loudly around the train station, and as he opened his eyes and blinked the spots away, he realised just what a spectacle he was making of himself. His two ex-passengers had stopped to look back at him as though he had a plague. Gordon just smiled and gave them a small wave. The doorman rolled his eyes and continued on, while the other passenger stared at Gordon with a strange mix of fear and awe.

Gordon noticed that the device had floated up over his head and had taken to following along behind him as he walked. A light breeze blew a box usually reserved for Chinese food tumbling down the platform and past Gordon. Random papers of different colours floated along the ground with the silent wind, and Gordon wondered how any major city could have a train station so badly kept.

As he walked down the platform, clearing the two trains on either side of him, Gordon could either go left or right. To the right, a chain link fence with a closed door didn't seem to yield any hope. But something behind the fence caught Gordon's eye, and he slowly walked to the it, checking behind him to see if anyone was watching. Inside was one of the electricity aliens, a pale blue metal colour clamped around its' neck. And it was… sweeping. Sweeping up litter with a broom.

It stopped in its' work and looked up at him with sad, crimson eyes. A flash of recognition made its' head twitch, and it seemed to want to make a move towards him. But a quick glance behind him showed Gordon the reason why he didn't.

A man in a dark uniform, all dark navy and black, stood behind the alien. The white, ghoulish gasmask he wore gave Gordon flashbacks to the Black Mesa Facility just a few hours ago. Waiting to jump into the portal at the Lambda Core, that mysteriously helpful soldier not just letting him go, but defending him as he went.

But something told Gordon that this one would be nowhere near as helpful. As he stepped out of the darkness and into the light, striding towards him with a cockiness he had seen hundreds of times before in schoolyard bullies around the world, Gordon noticed for the first time the baton held in his shiny, long leather gloves.

"_Move away," _he commanded, his voice garbled almost beyond recognition by some kind of digital radio device.

Gordon was indecisive for a moment, and the man in the gasmask seemed to tighten his grip on the baton, his gloves creaking. And then a voice distracted Gordon from anything else. A voice he hadn't heard in weeks.

"_Welcome. Welcome to City 17. You have chosen or been chosen to relocate to one of our finest remaining urban centres."_

The oozing, smarmy voice echoed all around the station, and Gordon slowly turned to see a huge screen high above his head, hanging from the ceiling. On the screen, his old Administrator Dr Breen talked with a quite assurance and a far too white toothy smile._ "I though so much of City 17 that I elected to establish my administration here, in the Citadel so thoughtfully provided by our benefactors. I've been proud to call City 17 my home. And so, whether you are here to stay or passing through on your way to parts unknown… welcome, to City 17. It's safer here."_

And then the transmission was over, replaced by a yellow symbol that looked like two curved blades centred around a single yellow dot. Gordon was thoroughly out of his depth now. What was this? Was this a hallucination? More tricks from the Man?

Because if it wasn't… what did that mean? Xen aliens under the control of some kind of storm trooper, his old administrator seemingly in charge of an entire city… and some 'benefactors' who had provided a 'citadel'. And 'City 17?' What was that about? All of it added up in some way, Gordon was sure, but… right now, he was at an incredible loss to explain it.

At the opposite end of the platform, Gordon saw a large horizontal turnstile beside another chain link fence leading to an area beyond. He made his way towards it. Beside a nearby luggage cart, another man in a denim suit argued with a masked figure of authority. His arms were grasped over the suitcase on the top of the cart, gripping it so hard his knuckles were going white.

"Please, it's all I have left."

The gasmask man wordlessly gave him a hard shove to the ribs, sending him stumbling back with a grunt. Gordon instinctively took a quick step forward, but stopped himself when he found himself reaching for a crowbar that weren't there. Right now, he was just an ordinary man. If someone shot him or beat him, he would bleed, and he would die. And it scared him.

"_Move away."_

Glaring up at the gasmask and nestling his chest where he had been hit, his angry gaze fell to the baton held limply by the policeman's side.

"All right, I'm moving," he conceded, backing up a few paces before turning and going through the turnstiles.

Following suit, Gordon walked to the turnstile, becoming increasingly paranoid of the camera device beeping and whirring behind him as it followed. But, as he walked through the awkward rotating gate, it seemed to give up and float off in the opposite direction, floating up into the sky.

A small woman with mousy brown hair stood at the fence beside the turnstile, gripping it fiercely.

"Were you the only ones on that train?"

There was such fear in her eyes, Gordon didn't know what to say. It didn't seem to matter; the woman continued speaking regardless of his wordless reply, wringing her hands as she spoke.

"Overwatch stopped our train in the woods, and… took my husband for questioning. They said he'd be on the next train." Her brow creased as she stared at some invisible spot on the floor. "…I'm not sure when that was… they're…they… be nice though, letting me wait for him."

Gordon wasn't sure what he could say that was adequate. Wherever this place was, Gordon didn't want any part of it. Judging by the buildings he would have thought he was in some oppressed minority of a country, but the accents of the people, and Dr Breen broadcasting on giant monitors, and aliens enslaved as street-sweepers…

The woman had since forgotten he was there and taken to staring out through the fence once more, gazing at the recently arrived train for any new passengers that were never coming. Gordon reached out a hand to put on her shoulder, but then slowly withdrew it, pulling it back to his side and turning around. He went through a small archway and past some small, closed up shops. The metal coverings of the shop booths were rusting with age and non-use. They looked _years _old. A sign above one of the booths read 'Change', with some lettering beneath that looked vaguely European, or perhaps Russian. But the writing was so old, parts of the sign drooping and torn off… it still gave him no clue as to where he was.

As he walked into the train station proper, he noticed that it looked rather small for a train station lobby, the centre of the room taken by a closed tourist information booth, the metal covers closed and locked, although the padlocks had certainly seen better days. Benches were placed at regular intervals along both sides of the room. On the far wall opposite Gordon, a timetable listed trains from different numbered cities, all of them departing.

He made his way over to them when a desperate, weak grip clamped around his wrist. Gordon looked down to see an older middle age man, grey hair just beginning to nibble at his temples, his eyes frantic as he looked from side to side.

"Don't drink the water," he hurriedly muttered. "Th-they put something in it… to make you forget." He looked away and frowned, as though trying to recall something. Finally, he gave up, staring Gordon in the eye with his frantic gaze. "I don't even remember how I got here."

Gordon just nodded and gently used his other hand to release the man's grip on his wrist. Slowly and tiredly, he removed his hand, allowing Gordon to leave unmolested. He continued on to the timetable hanging from the ceiling, and almost bumped into another citizen, this one with short black hair and small eyes, his arms folded as he paced from one side of the room to the other. His mutterings faded in and out of Gordon's visual range as he walked.

"…and the ones that do arrive, th-they never leave, you never see them go, they're always full, no-one ever gets on, and they're always departing, b-but they never arrive…"

Gordon didn't even _want _to go there. And so, he turned around and walked past the closed, rotting tourist stand to see a corridor in front of him. A system of tall fences weaved its' way up and down the corridor, working like the red mazes the airports used to create those long, zigzagging queues. Except no-one was queuing in this one. Everyone was waiting on this side.

At the far end, the men in the masks stood, waiting for any citizens that might come their way to be checked. From five minutes here, Gordon didn't even _want_ to think about what their 'checks' would involve. Only God knew what years of this would do to the people living in this city.

A citizen sat beside him wrung his dark hands, staring down the same corridor.

"I'm trying to work up the nerve to go on," he said, sounding slightly breathless. Obviously this wasn't a decision to be made lightly.

Gordon's denim clothes started to itch at the seams as he began to sweat. His two fellow train passengers stood just next to the entrance of the queue, looking on judgementally as Dr Breen's message repeated on a monitor suspended in the corner of the far end of the corridor.

"Dr Breen _again?_ I was hoping I'd seen the last of him in City 14."

With a look of urgency, the tired, brown haired companion leaned over conspiratorially, shielding his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I wouldn't say that too loud. This is his base of operations."

Dr Breen had a _base of operations?_ This was getting ridiculous. Too ridiculous for Gordon. With a deep breath, he tossed his head up and walked down the corridor, ignoring the stunned yet horrified looks of the other citizens as he wound up and down it a few times. Finally, he came out at the other end. One of the men blocked his path straight ahead, standing in front of some stairs with a door behind it. Dr Breen continued his sickly sweet ramblings as another police officer diverted him to the left, through a doorway in a fence and into a small area beyond that had been cordoned off.

Two fences on either side of him prevented escape. A closed door on his right would seem to be the only way out, since another of the policemen was standing in the doorway of the fence ahead of him, too. Behind him, in a station platform far bigger and advanced looking than the one Gordon had arrived in, two tall, shining black behemoths sat, waiting to depart.

In the corner of the holding area, a camera on an incredibly flexible arm took one look at him and beeped incessantly, a klaxon behind him sounding once. The camera flashed and clicked. Almost instantly, the door beside him flew open, revealing one of the policemen in silhouette.

"_You, citizen, come with me!"_

He turned and walked back down the thin, murky corridor, not expecting to have to ask again. Gordon glanced to the policeman on either side of him and walked inside, his eyes flitting down to the batons held at their sides as he walked inside. Someone closed the door behind him, and he was plunged into almost complete darkness, only the daintiest of light fixtures above giving him a yellowy look to everything.

There were two doors on the left hand wall, and the policeman had gone to the second. From the first, Gordon heard a scared, slightly indignant voice echoing out through the eye-level porthole.

"This must be a mistake! I got a standard relocation coupon, just like everybody else!"

A ghostly gas masked face appeared in front of him from behind and the door and slid the porthole shut from the other side. That had looked suspiciously like an interrogation room.

His escort wordlessly banged his fist back against the door beside him, and another dressed in the exact same uniform opened the thick metal door. Looking to Gordon, his policeman thrust an angry finger into the dark room.

"_Get in."_

Gordon silently did as he was told, and instantly started looking for weapons he could use once these doors were closed. He may not have his HEV suit or any kind of weapons, but he still had his instincts. All he found was a chair akin to one found in a dentist's surgery, dry and fresh blood splattered all around the checked tile floor. A rusting bucket sat beside the chair, and Gordon didn't even want to look inside. A metal table beside him had some thick books on top. There was a control panel taking up the entire right-hand wall, with a bright blue tall monitor in the middle, white text edging up it like a command prompt.

"_Need any help with this one?"_

He turned around at the noise, looking to the two conversing cops. Gordon's escort shook his head.

"_Nah, I'm good."_

A frown creased Gordon's already troubled brow. That didn't sound at all like the rest of them. With a silent nod, the second policeman left the room, closing the door behind him. The remaining cop looked to Gordon, who tensed.

"_Back up," _he commanded, walking past Gordon and around the table. For the moment, Gordon did as he was told, being careful not to fall into the chair and leave himself vulnerable. The policeman started tapping away on the control panel.

"_Yeah, I'm gonna need me some privacy for this."_

Gordon's frown deepened. That wasn't just different from how the others spoke. That was _familiar. _He knew someone who spoke like that. Two cameras that Gordon hadn't even noticed on either side of the control panel quickly folded up into small domes in the ceiling. Gordon, however, was simply studying the policeman as he turned around to face him.

It couldn't be.

"_Now…"_

It was impossible.

The policeman removed his ghoulish helmet, revealing a face Gordon had never expected to see again.

Barney Calhoun grinned. "… about that beer I owed ya." He waited for a moment, taking in Gordon's astonishment for a moment. "It's me, Gordon; Barney from Black Mesa!"

Well, no shit.

Gordon just gaped uncontrollably. The security guard's smile faded and he sighed.

"Hey, sorry for the scare, I had to put on a show for the cameras," he said, gesturing to the now hidden devices in the ceiling. He turned around and started tapping furiously away on the keyboard in front of him. As he spoke further, Gordon walked up beside him and took in the face of his old friend. The back of his headgear was still in place, so he couldn't see all of his hair, but from what little he could see it certainly looked more grey. A long since healed scar was on his left cheek below his eye, and one that hadn't been there two days ago.

"I've been workin' undercover with Civil Protection. I can't take too long or they'll get suspicious, I'm… way behind on my beating quota," he said, smiling and shrugging at Gordon.

The blue text disappeared from the screen, revealing a run down wall and a window at the top. And then another voice echoed out that Gordon had never thought would grace his ears again. With irritable vigour, Dr Kleiner bounced onto screen, looking as annoyed as he sounded.

"_Yes, Barney, what is it? I'm in the middle of a critical test!"_

Barney just grinned and stepped back, allowing Gordon to step forward. "Sorry doc, but… looks who's here!"

The elderly scientists' expression instantly morphed into astonishment. _"Great Scott! Gordon Freeman! I… expected more warning."_

"Yeah, you and me both, doc. He was about to board the train to _Nova Prospekt." _At that, Barney looked over at Gordon admonishingly, as though he should somehow know better.

Kleiner just nodded. _"Well, Barney, what do you intend?"_

His hand instantly went to the back of his head, rubbing it as he always did when under pressure to think of something. "I'm thinkin', I'm thinkin'!"

An idea seemed to pop into Kleiner's head, because he hopped a little on his toes before he spoke. _"Alyx is around here! Somewhere…" _ he trailed off, looking a little unsure. He continued._ "…she might have a better idea of how to get him here."_

Barney didn't seem convinced. "Well… as long as he stays away from checkpoints, we should be okay," he looked to Gordon, nodding in a way that seemed to suggest he knew what the hell they were talking about. His expression hardened, and he looked back up to the monitor. "Listen, I gotta go doc, we're takin' enough chances as it is."

Taken aback by the sudden change of mood, Dr Kleiner blustered a little as he spoke. _"…Very well. And, uh… Gordon?" _He smiled._ "Good to see you."_

And with that, he was gone, replaced by the white text scrolling up the blue monitor. Barney looked to Gordon with renewed vigour.

"Okay Gordon. You're gonna have to make your own way to Dr Kleiner's lab-"

A sudden, resounding banging from the door made Gordon jump and Barney scowl.

"Ah, man, that's what I was afraid of." He walked past Gordon and roughly shoved open a door behind in. Barney jabbed a quick finger inside. "Get in here, Gordon, before you blow my cover!"

Once again, Gordon did as he was told, bustling quickly into the dark back room. Wooden crates, opened parcels and paper were strewn across the floor. Light seeped in through the windows above and behind Gordon, reachable via a ladder leading up to a small deck there. Barney put a hand on his shoulder.

"Pile up some stuff to get through that window and keeping goin' 'til you're in the plaza. I'll meet up with you later."

Gordon nodded and walked to the ladder. As he grasped the first rung, he looked to Barney, so many things on his mind that he wanted to ask, that he wanted to say.

"…Thank you."

At first, he didn't respond. Then he just smiled and shook his head. "Damn, I missed ya, Gordon." His smile vanished. "Now get!"

Without a word more, he slammed the door shut. The pressurising knocking continued from inside the interrogation room, and Gordon climbed the ladder. Some wooden crates were easily piled up for him to reach the long ago smashed window, and Gordon clambered out on the ledge. Looking down, he saw that he was at least two storeys up, with only a single crate precisely placed beneath the window to break his fall. Did Barney do this often for citizens? Because if he did, he needed to work on a better escape route.

Holding his breath and his glasses, Gordon leapt off the ledge and quickly rushed down to the bottom, the crate loudly cracking beneath his feet and sending him toppling back onto his rear. A cloud of dust billowed up past him, making Gordon's nose twitch. He slowly got himself to his feet, rubbing his backside as he did so.

So that was what jumping several storeys without a HEV suit felt like.

"Ow…"

A tall, worn wall on his left was obviously not the way to go, but the building to his right held a slightly ajar, rotting white door. With a sore behind, Gordon slowly made his way over to it and went inside. A padlocked fence inside the room on the left blocked the way to a darkened section of the room, but it didn't look like it had anything valuable inside anyway. Just discarded boxes and stacks of paper strewn everywhere haphazardly.

Ahead of him some rusted mauve stairs led up to another door. They groaned ominously as he stepped on them, and he increased his pace until he swung the door open unconsciously fast. It slammed loudly against the wall on the other side, and Gordon ducked his head, looking around the room beyond in paranoia.

Fortunately, no-one was around to hear it. At least no-one in the immediate vicinity. To his right the corridor was blocked off, closed shut by the kind of extendable fences usually reserved for shop windows and doors. On the left he would see a passageway leading to a room beyond, a person sized gap in the extendable fence offering a way out. Something at the far side of the room caught Gordon's attention, however. A blue vending machine, a picture of a drop of water falling into a lake, and…

The words 'Dr Breen's Private Reserve' plastered above the image. He looked the machine up and down, taking in the glowing buttons on the side. All of the selections were the same.

"Don't drink the water…" he muttered to himself, running his hand down the front of the machine.

Heavy booted footsteps behind him drew Gordon's attention around. Stood in the only gap allowing Gordon safe passage to the room beyond, one of the Civil Protection officers stood, staring at him through blank white lenses. Beside him stood a green trashcan, a blue can of Dr Breen's water balancing precariously on the rim. Lifting his baton, the officer nudged it off and onto the floor.

"_Pick up that can."_

Gordon just stared at him. The officer flicked a switch on his baton, and the tip suddenly sparked, the tip fizzling a brilliant blue.

"_Pick up the can."_

He did as he was told, and, keeping his eyes firmly on the officer, knelt and picked up the can.

"_Now. Put it in the trash can."_

Gaze still locked on the officer, Gordon moved his arm robotically over the receptacle and dropped the can. For the longest time, the officer just stared at him.

"_All right. You can go."_

With a garbled chuckle, the officer flicked off his baton and turned, walking back into the foyer of the building behind him. It was only then that Gordon realised his throat was completely dry. Maybe some of that water wasn't a bad idea right now. But then he thought about the frenzied look in that man's eyes at the train station.

Perhaps not.

Gordon walked through the darkened passageway in front of him, being careful not to overtake the officer as he walked out into the larger chamber beyond. This looked like it had been a bank at some point. All along the right hand wall, boarded up booths that were no doubt once filled with bank tellers and eager-to-please employees were replaced by a singular device in the middle. Several citizens stood in front of it, the front in line waiting patiently for whatever was going to come out of the bottom slot.

The officer in front of him turned and took up a position beside the passageway, and Gordon could feel his eyes boring into him as he continued to walk on. With an affirmative ping, the machine in front of the queue revealed some flat packed folded garments. Even though his instinct was to keep moving as fast as he could, Gordon couldn't help but wait and watch as the citizen walked back around and towards the exit on the left-hand side of the room, passing him as he did so.

Gordon recognised the uniform instantly. It was the same one Barney was wearing. He took a breath to speak as the woman with the uniform passed him.

"Word to the wise?" she muttered, never once looking at him. "Keep it to yourself."

So Gordon did. Instead, he simply took to following her out of what he now knew was a recruitment station. As he walked out through the archway and into another corridor heading off to the left, the enormous screen suspended over the main foyer silently flicked back on, and Dr Breen's voice sounded once again.

"_Let me read a letter I recently received: 'Dear Dr Breen. Why has the… 'Combine' seen fit to suppress our reproductive cycle? Sincerely, A Concerned Citizen.'"_

The woman ahead of him opened two large wooden doors, and sunlight from outside cast a long shadow behind her. She stepped out, but Gordon paused for a moment, his attention on the broadcast echoing out behind him. They had what? Suppressed the reproductive cycle? What did that mean?

Dr Breen continued on. _"Thank you for writing, 'Concerned'. Of course, your question touches on one of the basic biological impulses, with all it's associated hopes and fears for the future of the species. I also detect some unspoken questions. 'Do our benefactors really know what's best for us?' 'What gives them the right to make this kind of decision for mankind?' 'Will they ever deactivate the suppression field and let us breed again?'"_

Gordon shook his head and followed the woman out. The courtyard spread out before him was no doubt once quite a sight. As it was, Gordon's eyes were not drawn to the massive stone spire that served as a centrepiece of the area, framed by a circle of now dead flowers. What held his attention was the skyscraper that stood high above any of the other buildings Gordon could see from the top of the stairs on which he stood. So high that it disappeared into the heavens.

He swallowed loudly. That would be the Citadel, then.

It was the same dark blue as the trains Gordon had spied in the station earlier, and appeared incredibly thin, almost flat, from the distance he stood at. He tried to pull his eyes from it as Dr Breen continued talking, his face on another monitor suspended high above the ground on a spire.But Gordon really wasn't interested in anymore of the drivel he was no doubt going to spout. Looking around, he saw that three or two storey buildings ran all around the courtyard area, the old bank he had emerged from being the largest, and the grandest.

The rest looked like something one would see in a rustic town, while the building behind him looked… well, like something completely different. A wide set of stone steps leading up past a row of thick white pillars that suspended the ceiling above him. The road that circled around the pillar led off to the right, so Gordon started walking that way. More of the camera devices slowly floated their way through the sky, obviously finding nothing out of the ordinary about him now that he had been photographed and catalogued. Hopefully that wouldn't change anytime in the near future.

All of the buildings on the left were adjoined, no alleyways between allowing Gordon an easy escape if this _did_ come down to a chase. Not that he wanted it to, but he knew his own luck by now. Through some double doors on the building on his left, Gordon could only just see through the slightest of gaps the end result of what he assumed was a raid by the 'authorities'. Inside, two citizens were spread eagle against the wall, and another curled up on the floor. Several Civil Protection officers stood inside, as well as on either side of the doors. When Gordon tried to get a better look, one of the officers wordlessly walked to the gap, blocking his view.

Trying to look as inconspicuous as he could while still attempting to move quickly, Gordon just bowed his head and moved on. The road took him forward and off to the left. On the right, a rare alleyway led up to a fire escape platform above, which, in turn, would be able to take him over the tall fence blocking it. Gordon looked down the road ahead.

A frightening mix between a car and a tank sat parked before a tall metal barrier, several Civil Protection officers stood around it. But something else was truly grabbing Gordon's attention. Slowly walking past and down the road behind the barrier, the tallest creature Gordon had ever seen trudged past, each footstep thumping loudly against the ground, vibrating through to his feet. Even the green tentacle things hadn't been _that _big.

Three incredibly thin legs extended up to a oblong-ish head, the white shell on top covering the black underbelly. Something that looked like a cannon - a theory Gordon had no wish to test - sat beneath the head, dangling idly from side to side as the creature lumbered out of sight.

The two officers stood beside the van were starting to stare at him, so Gordon turned and headed back to the alleyway. Grass and weeds sprouted from between the concrete slabs, crunching beneath Gordon's black shoes as he stepped on them. A closed dumpster gave him a stepping stone up to the ladder for the fire escape, and Gordon was up and over in no time.

The alleyway led out to another road between buildings. On the left, another barrier with yet more officers looked even less inviting. Several citizens were splayed randomly across the floor and along the wall, one with its' arms and legs tied together while he lay on his belly. Gordon turned and went the other way, his hand itching to hold a crowbar and do something about everything he was seeing.

The road led to a corner going off to the left, and Gordon made his way around. Buildings surrounded him on either side, ended by a large building at the far end where two Civil Protection officers stood on either side of some closed doors. Beside him, stood outside another building, two citizens watched the proceedings with folded arms, one looking far more annoyed than the other.

The latter, stood on the right, noticed Gordon immediately as he approached.

"This is how it _always _starts. First a building, then the _whole _block."

His companion looked over to him, frowning. "They have no reason to come to our place," he mumbled, and his friend just rolled his eyes.

"Don't worry, they'll find one."

Gordon looked around the area ahead of him. Ahead of him on the right, some swing sets hung idly. He only then realised that he had seen no children since he arrived. No-one even below their late twenties. Breen's word echoed in the back of his mind. Suppressing our reproductive cycle.

How long had they been here? He sure as hell didn't remember any kind of movement like this brewing a few days ago. Surely he would have read something in the paper or seen it on the news if some foreign city was going through this kind of turmoil. The only other explanation was that he had been away for at least two decades. And it had only felt like a few seconds to him.

Suddenly, his throat was dry again, and he even felt a little dizzy.

"You okay?"

He blinked and looked over at the two men stood beside him.

"I…" He shook his head. "Yes. Sorry."

The man looked back to his companion. "That's what happens when you drink too much of the water."

His friend just offered the barest hint of a smile before turning back to the guarded door at the other end of the courtyard.

Gordon took a breath and continued forward, trying to ignore how the whining of the rusted swing chains sounded like children laughing. As he approached the two doors, one of the officers moved in front of it, and Gordon stopped. He looked around, searching for some other route. Off to the left, an open entrance to the building welcomed him inside, the stale yellow light from inside offering at least some way forward.

With one more glance at the officers, both of whom stared at him intently, Gordon walked into the building. Inside, he found himself at the bottom of a winding stairwell, a metal fence of an elevator shift in the middle. Judging from the rust and decay that had spread across it, this thing hadn't seen use in some time. Gordon walked up the creaking stairs to the next floor, bringing him to a cramped white corridor stretching out ahead of him. The stairs finished there, but at the other end of the corridor Gordon could see some more stairs of a similar design going up further.

Unfortunately, at least half a dozen Civil Protection officers stood in his way. Thankfully they weren't interested in him, all of their attention on a door on the left-hand side of the corridor. One thumped loudly against the thin wood, the banging echoing down the corridor as Gordon cautiously made his way forward.

"_Open up!"_

When there was no reply, the officer just backed up a step and plunged a foot into the door, cracking the locked door open. The squad flooded inside, and Gordon tried his best not to think about the noises coming from inside. One of the officers remained in the corridor, blocking his path ahead. He sparked on his baton when Gordon approached, raising it behind him in preparation for a swing. Some double doors on the right-hand side of the corridor gave Gordon an option out of this evidently one way confrontation, and he went inside. The officer didn't follow.

He was in the kitchen of an apartment. Long disused pots and pans were strewn across the sink, which looked like it had seen equally little use. Beyond the counter, a citizen sat hunched over a small round table, and as Gordon walked to him, it became obvious he was more than a little drunk from the empty bottles of whisky toppled over on its' surface.

"Was that you knocking?" he slurred, his bloodshot eyes blinking out of sequence. "I didn't know we still had a door…"

With that, he returned to his alcohol induced slumber on the table. Gordon looked around the apartment, and out the windows beside him. They offered a view down onto the empty street below. It was incredibly odd to see no-one travelling down it, either on foot or by car. That was something else Gordon hadn't seen, outside of those utilised by the local law enforcement. No vehicles.

An open doorway to the next room yielded two more citizens, both of them looking out of the window at the street. An old television droned out Dr Breen's message about the reproductive cycle, and went ignored by both of them. Two double doors like the ones he had used to enter the room stood on the far wall, giving Gordon his exit. The first of the citizens, an older black man with a slight paunch about the belly area, looked over at him in alarm. When he took in the man before him, his shoulders visibly relaxed.

"Oh… I thought you were a cop."

The citizen behind him, a diminutive woman with brown hair, smiled and shook her head. "He's one of us."

The man shook his head, looking at the street below. "Look at 'em down there…"

Gordon followed his gaze, and saw one of the vans pull up outside. Civil Protection officers poured out of every exit possible in the vehicle. An alarm sounded that seemed to come from somewhere in the distance, echoing down the street. That was an awful lot of officers. He started backing out of the room, heading for the doors. In the distance, the calm voice of a woman echoed out through the streets and in through the windows, saying something about an unauthorised something or other. The two at the window listened attentively before they spoke again.

"I told you they'd be coming for us next," the woman said with a strange amount of certainty.

Her companion's mouth formed a thin line, his gaze still locked on the officers as they filed into the building. "Just this once I hope you're wrong."

He looked up to speak to Gordon, but he was already turning the door handle and backing out of the room. He came back out into the dingy corridor on the other side of the officer that had dissuaded him before. His blank gaze settled on Gordon. Neither of them moved.

Slowly, Gordon started backing away, and gradually turned when he was a few paces from the officer. He risked a glance over his shoulder, and saw that the officer was following him. Gordon's pace increased. He reached the stairs and took them three steps at a time. As he rounded up the flight of stairs, he got a peek down the corridor. Behind the single officer, half a dozen more thundered down the corridor behind him from the stairs, the wooden floorboards groaning in protest as they charged towards him.

Gordon gave up the pretence and started running, taking him up to the next floor. The stairwell was blocked by a barricade of broken sofas, chairs and tables. An urgent voice hissed behind him.

"Hey, you!"

Gordon whipped his head around to the corridor behind him. A skinny, brown haired citizen beckoned him over to the room he now poked his head out of.

"In here!"

Without pause, Gordon rushed inside.

"Head for the roof. There's no time to lose!"

A desperate voice from down below yelled 'CPs!', and the man roughly grabbed Gordon by the arm, almost tossing him across the room and towards the doorway into the next. Gordon looked back unsurely as he heard the heavy marching approach.

"Go!"

Gordon turned and started running again, sprinting through a bare room with only a worn, unoccupied sofa in the corner. Through another corridor ahead of him, he could see more stairs. Several loud cracks and thumping noises came from behind him, the screams and yells coming shortly after. He headed for the stairs. From down below, even more CPs ascended the stairs, flicking on their batons when they saw him.

Gordon headed up, the breath quickly burning in his lungs as he raced to the next floor, which turned about to be the top one. Another citizen in the corridor beyond so very much mirroring the one below beckoned him inside.

"Come on!"

Civil Protection was practically on his heels by now. Gordon charged through the door, weaving past the man in the doorway and into the small room beyond. A wooden staircase led up somewhere above. Behind him, the man slammed the door shut and propped his body up against it, gripping the doorknob for dear life.

"Keep moving, head for the roof!"

He turned and started climbing. One of the steps gave way as he stepped onto it, and Gordon ignored the way the broken wood scraped against his leg through the denim as he clambered up into the attic area above. Sunlight seeped through the broken wooden roof, and a large hole at the far end allowed Gordon a way out onto the rooftops beyond. He heard the door down below collapse, and he started running yet again, his shirt sticking to his back from the sweat.

He dropped out of the hole and onto the concrete roof below him. A wooden ramp took him up to the next roof, the tiles of this one making it difficult for Gordon to get a grip. He tried not to look down as he scaled the roof, making his way to the only exit he could see; an incredibly thin ledge running along the building in front of him. The familiar deep whipping noise of a helicopter assaulted his ears, and Gordon looked up to see something like a cross between a larval insect, a helicopter, and a fighter jet. The gleaming white armour atop the larval shape of the creature led to a wider, circular section at the back where a rotor kept the thing aloft. Two small flipper like protrusions hung off either side of the creature at the mid section. Much like the tall monstrosity Gordon had seen roaming the street earlier, this had a singular cannon shape poking out the front. Fortunately, it and its partner - the latter of which appeared a few seconds after the former - were headed somewhere else.

The wind from the vehicles (creatures?) made him slip, and Gordon soon found himself skidding headfirst towards the ledge and most likely off onto the pavement well over four storeys below. As he reached the ledge he grasped out at some of the tiles beneath him. His fingers finally found purchase, and he stopped himself just as his head jutted out of the edge. He looked down at the ground below him. It was strange how, even after he had scaled a canyon hundreds of times higher, falling off a four storey building still frightened him.

Two wooden planks beside him formed a bridge over to the small rim of the building that would be his way forward. As he slowly crawled his way across them, he saw CPs gathering below, pulling out handguns he hadn't seen them wielding previously. Behind him, he saw more CPs hopping out of the hole in the building he had just escaped from. Tightening his jaw, Gordon got to his feet and started shimmying his way across the wall, hoping the CPs were more squeamish about heights than he was.

The officers below started firing, the bullets chipping off bits of cement around him as he edged along. One bullet hit the wall just behind his ear, and Gordon gasped loudly, almost falling from the shock of the pain. He quickly slammed his back into the wall, and kept on going. As he reached the next ledge, something sharp and painful hit his left shoulder, and Gordon immediately clutched his arm. He looked down at the blood seeping through the cheap denim, soaking it.

So that was what if felt like to be shot without an HEV suit.

It wasn't nice.

He hissed, gritting his teeth and continuing on down the now metal ledge of an entirely different building. This one brought him to two long since broken windows leading into another attic area. Gordon almost fell forward into it, struggling to get to his feet while he clutched his arm. A long, rectangular gap in the floor indicated some stairs, and Gordon headed for them. Two steps down and they collapsed beneath him. Gordon instantly tumbled the rest of the way, slamming right shoulder first into the ground, hitting his head against the pale blue wall.

Dizzy, breathless and bleeding, Gordon had to scrape his shoulder along the wall to pull himself to his feet and stumble into the corridor beyond. It led off to the left and the right, both ways blocked by closed doors. Gordon headed for the right first. Before he could even reach the handle, the door flew open, three CPs waiting for him. Gordon turned and limped to the other door, only for the same thing to happen there as well.

The CP in front of him sparked his baton alight and swung it at his head. Gordon ducked, but couldn't avoid the baton of the CP behind him, and it struck him in the side of the head, banging his head back against the wall. He saw the officers converging on him as he started to drift out of consciousness.

"Over here!"

Gordon's eyes flickered open upon hearing the charged female voice echo from somewhere behind the CPs. They looked around and charged towards someone at the left hand door.

"No you don't!"

As he drifted away, Gordon heard the CPs grunting as something solid seemed to hit them over and over again. Thumping and cracking noises were randomly interspersed, quickly followed by the grunts of the officers as they tumbled to the floor. The last thing he felt before he lost consciousness completely was a gentle grip on his shoulders.

When he opened his eyes, Gordon was staring up at the ceiling. He looked around hazily.

And then a face Gordon had never seen before drifted into view, knelt over him and smiled a wonderful smile.

"Gordon Freeman, I presume."

The same mechanically calm female voice rang out through the windows, and the woman looked up intently. Gordon still couldn't hear too well, his ears ringing from the gunshot near his head and the beating he had just sustained. Also, the woman before him was more than a little distracting. She seemed like such an oddity. She was mixed race, certainly, her medium length black hair clipped back and held there by a thick brown hair band that ran from behind her ears and over the top of her head. The smallest sliver of red ran up the middle of her hairline. She got to her feet, dusting off her pale, worn jeans. Her tight jeans, at that.

Gordon shook his head at the thought, and clambered to his feet.

"We'd better hurry," she said, looking out of the windows behind them as Gordon took in the wreckage around him. They were standing in the room beyond the right-hand doorway of the corridor. Civil Protection officers lay all over the room, splayed in positions both painful and ridiculous.

The young woman continued on, oblivious. "The Combine can be slow to wake, but once they're up, you don't want to get in their way." She turned and walked to an open elevator door that he hadn't noticed until now. "Dr Kleiner said you'd be coming this way." A small chuckle croaked from her lips as she stepped inside. "I don't think it occurred to him that you might not have a map."

Gordon, dazed and more than slightly confused, stepped inside the elevator beside her. Nodding, she pressed a button beside the open entrance of the elevator, and the chain linked gate slid shut in front of them. The elevator started its' creaky descent. Unsure of what to say, Gordon looked down at his arm and realised that it wasn't driving him mad with the pain anymore.

Instead, the torn sleeve of his denim shirt revealed a neat bandage wrapped around the arm beneath. He looked to the woman in surprise.

She smiled. "Field dressing. You spend enough time with medics, that's what you get. It's not great, but it should do until you…" She shrugged. "Well, it should do."

Gordon just nodded, not sure how to reply to that. Instead, he managed the only other thing he had said to anyone today that seemed to be of importance.

"Thank you."

A puzzled eyebrow rose on her face, but she quickly covered it with a charming smile. "I'm Alyx Vance. My father worked with you back at Black Mesa?"

Gordon's face could have pretty much dropped off his head at that point. She was… _who?_

Still smiling, she self-consciously tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm sure you don't remember me, though."

She was sure he didn't remember her? How could he forget? He only saw her two days ago. And she was baby! Alyx Vance was a baby! She was two years old, for Christ's sake. And now she was… she was…

Well, she was certainly _not_ two years old.

Alyx smiled and folded her arms in front of the undersized Black Mesa hooded sweatshirt she wore beneath her worn leather jacket. "Man of few words, aren't you?"

The elevator came to a clanging halt, and the gate loudly opened for them, folding into the wall. Alyx left a speechless Gordon stood in the elevator, walking out into the dingy excuse for a basement and around the corner.

For a few moments, Gordon wondered if she was just a figment of his imagination, something that his blood-deprived brain had come up with to make the idea of being beaten to death by a corrupt police officers more palatable. But then she popped her head back around the corner, nodding in the direction she had disappeared in, and Gordon was forced to confront the concept that… maybe, just maybe… this was Alyx Vance. This… _woman _was the two year old baby he had awkwardly tried to look after for five minutes while waiting for Eli And Azian to finish cooking in the kitchen.

Gordon swallowed heavily and followed her around the corner. On the wall there, a yellow picture of a tyrannical Dr Breen overseeing what Gordon assumed was City 17 was plastered onto the badly painted white wall.

"Remember him from Black Mesa?" Alyx asked, pointing a thumb at the picture. Gordon noticed that she was wearing fingerless gloves, like those body builders wore. Not that she looked at all like a body builder. "Your old administrator." She laughed again, shaking her head. "Don't get my dad started on Dr Breen."

She reached for a small power box beside the picture, and tugged down on a pipe leading out below it and into the ground. With a clang, something released and opened up the thin strip of wall that the picture of Breen occupied. Behind it, a dark, barely visibly corridor led to another door at the far end. Alyx nodded down the corridor.

"Through here."

She led the way, checking over her shoulder when she was halfway to check that he was coming. Gordon watched her go before he slowly started following in her footsteps, trying not to stare as his brain still caught up with this miracle that was standing before him. So the Man had sent him to the future.

And while there was a lot Gordon didn't like about it…

It was certainly going to be interesting.

--

(A/N: I was originally going to wait until I wrote the whole thing before I started posting this, but then I figured that most of the people who frequent the Half-Life section would have grown old and had babies by the time I started releasing it that way. So here it is.

Reviews welcome, as always!)


	2. A Red Letter Day'

-1Disclaimer: I don't own _Half-Life._

_**Welcome to City 17**_

_**Chapter Two: "A Red Letter Day"**_

Alyx - at least, the _woman _who had introduced herself as Alyx, which was impossible since Alyx was a two year old girl - cocked an eyebrow at Gordon's confused expression.

"Funny, you showing up on this day in particular."

She turned and opened the murky door behind her, the pale lights from the other side merging with the sickly yellow coming from the corridor. Without any further comment, Alyx turned and walked into the expansive room beyond. It was a rather tall room, and thin going from left to right. A corridor in the bottom left of the room, accessible only from a stairway crossing in front of Gordon, led onward and into another room at the far end. A rusted guardrail that crossed in front of the drop down to the corridor below provided Alyx with something to rest her gloved hands on.

Gordon tried not to smile at the sight of a guardrail, and how many memories such a simple thing sent hurtling through his mind. The green tentacle creatures inside the missile test chamber, and the ludicrous tasks he had to fulfil just to fire the damn thing. And Philips… a companion he had taken with him until they were joined by Bennett, and left just outside a freezer room (what the hell was that for, anyway?)…

He wondered what had become of them. If they had managed to escape. With a few blinks, Gordon recovered from the sudden influx of memories and looked to Alyx curiously. The young woman, however, had become involved in the quick process of vaulting over the guardrail, landing deftly on the other side without even a whisper. She looked up to Gordon expectantly.

He looked from her to the guardrail, and back again. Adjusting his glasses unnecessarily, he walked to the stairs and lightly jogged down, coming to a stop directly in front of her.

"Funny?"

Alyx looked like Gordon had just done a handstand and started clapping his feet together.

"Sorry?" she said, laughing.

Gordon adjusted his glasses unnecessarily. "You said it was funny."

After a lingering blank look, Alyx shook her head, smiling. "Oh! Right. Yeah, sorry. We've, uh… we've been helping people escape the city on foot." She started walking down the corridor and into another room beyond, speaking over her shoulder as she went. Gordon kept astride of her easily, listening attentively.

"It's a dangerous route to my father's lab. Through the old canals?"

It sounded like something he should have known about, so Gordon just nodded wordlessly. Her father's lab? So Eli was somewhere nearby?

Alyx led him into the smaller room, overturned filing cabinets and crates on the right hand side. In front of him, a freight elevator shaft with the safety metal mesh led to somewhere else unknown to Gordon.

"Today, we're finally on the verge of having a better way."

The way she said it gave Gordon chills. As though the alternative had already cost so many people their lives.

With an easy smile that belied the seriousness of what they had just been discussing, Alyx walked to a vending machine on the left hand side of the room. It was for Dr Breen's private reserve.

"Here. Let me buy you a drink."

Gordon put his hand up to wave down the offer, but Alyx had already fished some loose change from her pocket and slipped it into the slot. She tapped several of the lit buttons with her knuckle, and finished up with two mighty slaps to the side of the machine. After a pause, the front of the machine opened as thought it were a door, swinging around and missing Gordon's toes by mere inches.

He couldn't see much inside, just that it was a larger area beyond, perhaps a storage area of some sort, at least when this place was being used for normal purposes. God only knew what was through that doorway now.

But Alyx's relaxed posture beside the door put Gordon somewhat at ease.

"Oh, and by the way? Nice to finally meet you."

And so, with another winning smile, Alyx silently convinced Gordon to head in first.

"Oh. Um…" His mouth felt dry. "Thank you."

As he stepped through, the familiar noise of a printing readout machine came to Gordon's ears. The room opened up in front of him. On the left wall ran a long table, random deconstructed devices of unknown origins scattered over it. The table led to a rack of shelves in the far corner, almost a dozen televisions flickering away as they monitored different areas of the city. On the wall opposite him, Gordon could see a closed metal door, the kind that usually led to some secured object or area. A keypad beside it ensured that Gordon wouldn't see whatever it was without permission.

His eyes drifting over past some lockers beside the metal door, Gordon found himself looking at an upper level, the windows overlooking the room boarded over securely with thick planks of wood. Crates and old computer screens littered the upper level, and the area beneath didn't look much better. On Gordon's immediate right, a table held the readout printer, the continuous splurge of papers falling neatly into a recycling crate. The desk was similarly littered with various scientific tools, papers and pencils strewn about haphazardly. Behind it, tucked into the far corner of the room, two large vats of luminescent orange liquid bubbled, a monitor beside it keeping a close eye on whatever was being experimented on.

But, honestly, that wasn't what really had Gordon's attention. Because bent double in front of a portable animal cage, wearing a grubby old lab coat, was someone Gordon had never expected to see again.

"Blast that little… where did she get to? Lamarr? Come out of there!"

"Uh-oh," Alyx laughed as she walked over, giving Gordon a roll of the eyes as she went. "Everything all right, Dr Kleiner?"

Still not stood to his full height, Dr Kleiner glanced over at Alyx, still keeping his head firmly in the cage.

"Oh. Hello Alyx. Well, almost all right."

Gordon slowly approached as the scientist talked, eager to be noticed by his old mentor.

"Lamarr has gotten out of her cage again." Finally, the elder scientist stood to his full height. His view of Gordon, however, was still blocked by Alyx. He thrust a deducing finger into the air as he walked past the girl, musing as he went. "If I didn't know better, I'd suspect Barneyof trapping and-" His words stopped in his throat as he almost bumped headfirst into Gordon.

"My goodness." His grin matched Gordon's. "Gordon Freeman. It really is you, isn't it?"

Alyx poked a thumb in Gordon's direction, a wry smile on her lips. "I found him wandering around outside. Bit of a troublemaker, isn't he?"

Dr Kleiner put up a silencing hand as he spoke, his bespectacled gaze firmly set on Gordon, as though he might disappear if he took his eyes off him. "We owe a great deal to Dr. Freeman, even if trouble _does _tend to follow in his wake."

Before any further comment could be made on that matter, Dr Kleiner bustled past Gordon, heading for his train-wreck of a desk. "I must say Gordon, you come at a _very _opportune time. Alyx has just installed the final piece for our resurrected teleport!"

The way he spoke, it was as though he were recommending a technician's services.

With only a cursory glance at Gordon, Alyx walked over to stand beside Dr Kleiner, waving the compliment away. "I can't take any credit for the breakthrough, doctor."

Gordon moved around to the other side of the desk so he could see the both of them clearly. He struggled, however, not to concentrate on the bubbling orange vats of whatever was behind them.

Dr Kleiner continued on, adjusting his glasses in a manner all too similar to the way Gordon had done so earlier. "Nonsense. Your talents surpass your loveliness."

The similarity in the gestures obviously wasn't lost on Alyx, who struggled to keep her smile under wraps as she looked from Kleiner to Gordon. "Let's just see if this thing works, okay?"

A clang from behind made Gordon jerk around. With a breathless pace, Barney rushed into the lab.

"Well, is he here?" The tension in his face instantly vanished, and he smiled. All it did, though, was reveal more age lines than Gordon had noticed before. "There y'are. Man, Gordon, you stirred up the hive."

He walked to the monitors in the corner of the room. They were a mix of old TV sets and LCD monitors, some obviously giving a better picture than others. With a keen eye on the screens, Barney talked over his shoulder.

"We can't keep him here long, doc; it'll jeopardise everything we've worked for."

It was only then, without the CP headset, that Gordon could see just how grey Barney's hair had become. It probably wasn't as bad as Gordon was making it out to be, but compared to the jet-black mop he had been used to on Barney, this was somewhat of a shock. And the sense of urgency and responsibility in his voice… that, too, was new. It was something he had only seen rare glimpses of, like when their sector in Black Mesa was evacuated because of a radiation leak. The professionalism and seriousness… what Gordon had seen that day had been so different from the inanely goofy man he had known. His respect for Barney had gone up considerably that day.

And judging from how Barney was acting now, Gordon's respect was about to go up even further.

Alyx walked around the table and stood beside it, putting her hands up to calm Barney down. "Don't worry," she soothed, looking over to Gordon. "He's coming with me."

He had barely managed the courage to squeak out 'I am?' when Dr. Kleiner spoke over him.

"That's right, Barney." With another grand finger poked up to the sky, Dr. Kleiner went on with his announcement. "This is a red letter day. We'll inaugurate the new teleport with a _double_ transmission."

Barney looked back from the monitors, frowning. "Wait… y'mean it's workin'? For real this time?" He turned his body and walked to the table, coming up beside Gordon and rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Because I still have nightmares about that cat."

Alyx and Gordon's heads collectively drooped as the final word hit their ears.

"What cat?" she asked, exchanging a nervous glance with Gordon.

Either unwilling to answer or ignorant of the question, Dr Kleiner spoke straight to Barney. "Now, now, there's nothing to be nervous about. We've made major strides since then." Dr Kleiner swooped an emphasising fist around in front of him. "Major strides."

But it seemed that Alyx was having none of it. "_What cat_?"

The topic of conversation had shifted, however, and Barney cast a judgmental eye over Gordon's attire before looking over to Kleiner. "Doc, since he's not takin' the streets, you might as well get him out of his civvies."

As he spoke, Gordon gave Alyx a small shrug and a smile as though to say 'what can you do?' She returned the gesture and walked over to the surveillance monitors. Gordon tried not to follow her with his eyes as she went, instead focusing on Dr Kleiner's reply.

The elderly scientist was already involved in the readouts and Barney had to wait for a response. Finally, he looked up, adjusting his glasses. "What? Oh dear, I almost forgot. Barney, I'll give _you _the honour."

Still extremely lost, Gordon looked to Barney for some kind of guidance. The ex-security guard just smirked. "I've gotta get back on my shift… but okay."

Without a word, he turned and walked to the metal door on the wall beside the monitors. After a quick tap on the number pad next to the door, Barney stepped back and watched as it slid up into the ceiling with only the barest of metal groans. A glass chamber inside reflected the light coming from the lab, but the contents were still obscured by darkness. Barney stepped inside and tapped lightly on another control panel inside beside the chamber.

Steam hissed from two vents on either side of the chamber as the lights in the small room finally came up, revealing something that brought feelings of both revulsion and safety.

An HEV suit. Whether it was his or not, Gordon couldn't tell. It looked slightly different from the one he had been wearing for the past two days, but they seemed to be mostly cosmetic changes. The shiny, almost oil-slicked black of the old suit had been replaced by a workmanlike grey, appearing almost rubbery in texture. The familiar Lambda symbol was still emboldened on the chest, covering one of the few portions of orange the suit had. A neckpiece had been added as well, and Gordon wondered if it would irritate his skin or not.

He stepped into the small room and ran a hand down the glass between him and his old companion. A part of him wanted to burn the damn thing and watch it melt in the inferno. Another wanted to get it on straight away, to cover himself and wrap himself in the safety it provided.

But Barney, naturally, was oblivious to such things.

"Here you go," he said, smiling with his hands on his hips as he admired the suit. His eyes travelled up to the top of the booth, and his expression suddenly changed. Gordon followed his gaze and almost fell over as he back-pedalled into the lab. A headcrab, perched on top of the HEV chamber, launched itself down onto Barney. He managed to keep it away from his head with his gloved hands, wrestling it off and tossing it to the ground.

"Dammit, get it off me!"

"Lamarr!"

Gordon's gaze whipped around to Dr Kleiner. "Lamarr?"

"I thought you got rid of that pest!" Barney yelled, and Gordon watched as the headcrab leapt up on top of the lockers beside the metal door, knocking off some of the books stacked there. Dr Kleiner stormed over, scowling at Barney.

"Certainly not!" The two looked up at the little creature, which now sat on its' hind legs like a panting dog. Dr Kleiner barely glanced back at Gordon as he spoke. "Never fear, Gordon; she's de-beaked, and _thoroughly_ harmless." He glared pointedly at Barney as he said 'thoroughly'.

Still wary and wishing he had a crowbar; Gordon slowly made his way back over to them, glancing over at Alyx for some kind of support. The tired yet amused look she wore indicated this was not the first time Barney had come to blows with the 'thoroughly harmless' headcrab.

"The worst she might do is try to…" He swirled his hand around in the air as he struggled to think of the correct term.

"Hump?" Barney suggested curtly.

The look Dr Kleiner shot him indicated that was _not _the correct term. "_Couple_… with your head."

Gordon shot a warning look at the headcrab.

"Fruitlessly!" Dr Kleiner added hastily, putting up a calming hand. "No need to take a crowbar to her or anything of that ilk."

That comment attracted Gordon's attention, and he looked to the scientist to enquire further when the headcrab hissed from atop the lockers. Barney adopted a stance as though he were preparing to take on a rhino.

"Get that thing away from me!"

With a sigh, Dr Kleiner looked to the headcrab and patted his bald head. "Here, my pet! Hop up!"

Lamarr, apparently, had other ideas. Glancing up to the upper storage level, it leapt up there instead with a bounce of its' stumpy yet surprisingly strong legs.

"No, not up there! Careful Lamarr, those are quite fragile-!" Jumping atop a crate, the alien creature managed to knock a white computer monitor to the floor, using it as a stepping-stone to clamber into the air vent that ran across the ceiling of the lab. Dr Kleiner swung a vigorous fist through the air as he looked up to the last place Lamarr had been seen. "Oh, fie! It'll be another _week_ before I can coax her out of there."

"Yeah," Barney snorted, "longer if we're lucky."

Alyx laughed. "Barney. You're not an animal person!"

He let out a shivery groan before walking back into HEV room. Well, what was passing for a HEV room; Gordon doubted the designers of this old place intended it for the storage of a Hazardous Environment suit.

Dr Kleiner wandered back to his desk as he spoke. "Well, Gordon, go ahead. Slip into your suit now."

His gaze still on the air vent and the notion that someone actually bothered to domesticate a headcrab, Gordon had to blink a few times before he brought himself back to reality. Almost dazed, he turned and walked to the glass booth, the front of which had now opened compliantly for him. He reached out a shaky hand for the suit, and remembered the wound on his arm for the first time. Alyx truly did nice work.

The sudden realisation that he would have to undress in front of this more than moderately attractive young lady made Gordon blush rather severely, and he thanked God that the room he was in was so dark.

"Um… Barney…"

The ex-security guard stared at him blankly. Then, finally, he noticed that Gordon was glancing to Alyx rather emphatically, and nodded in understanding. He walked out of the room and stepped to the control panel beside the metal door.

"I'll give ya you some privacy, I think." With a wink, Barney pressed a button on the panel.

And so, with an echoing metallic clang, Gordon was once more left alone with his HEV suit, although he rarely got to see if from this side. It was ridiculous how super heroic it looked. Hell, the Lambda symbol looked more like a crest than a logo. And Dr Kleiner's comment about the crowbar troubled him even more. How would he know about that? A sudden twinge from his bleeding arm brought Gordon out of his thoughts, and he reached for the suit.

Just two days ago, he had been going through these exact same motions. Removing his clothing, putting on the gloves, slipping into the boots, attaching the torso section… although the new neckpiece was a rather snug fit. He wondered if he would get used to it as he fingered around the hem with his gloved hand. The slightly raised lump on his forearm called to him, and Gordon pressed it. With a light beep and a pinprick, the nano-machines that allowed the suit to link to his nervous system spread throughout his bloodstream. For a few brief moments his eyes went out of focus, but a some feverish blinking brought his vision back, the Heads Up Display coming with it.

The usual tinny voice of the suit was missing, but that was no loss. The running narration of how much blood he had lost had worn thin after the first ten minutes or so of wearing the suit back at Black Mesa. Although he hoped that he wouldn't be doing quite so much running and fighting this time around. Hopefully, the suit was just a precaution.

Damn. He wished he hadn't thought the word 'hopefully'. 'Hopefully' always led to bad stuff.

He stepped off the pedestal of the booth and rapped his fingers on the metal door. After a brief pause, it slowly began to rise, revealing the HEV clad Gordon Freeman to the rest of the world. Barney jutted out his bottom lip and nodded slowly, looking faintly impressed but nothing more. Alyx, however, looked like she had seen a ghost. The expression was quickly covered up and replaced by a polite smile. While she returned to the monitors and was joined by a slightly amused looking Barney, Dr Kleiner spoke.

"Well, Gordon, I see your HEV suit still fits you like a glove. At least, the glove parts do." He squatted to get a look beneath his desk as Gordon crossed over to him.

_His _HEV suit? Where the hell did Kleiner get _his _HEV suit?

However, he merely grunted and ran his fingers along the collar of the suit, attempting to loosen it. "A bit tight," he croaked.

Barney smiled, but Kleiner ignored him.

"I've made a few modifications, but I'll just acquaint you with the essentials." Reaching into a small box beneath the desk, he pulled out a clipboard and lifted the first few pages to check the contents. Satisfied, he nodded and adjusted his glasses. "Now, let's see…" He cleared his throat. "'The Mark Five Hazardous Environment Suit has been _re_designed for comfort and utility.'"

Mark Five? Gordon's had only been Mark Four. So Kleiner had had the suit long enough to make modifications… and the only person who could have given him the suit was-

A loud, metallic groan filled the air, sounding like some kind of awakened beast. Dr Kleiner's head sprang up from the clipboard, and he looked at Gordon worriedly.

"Oh dear."

Gordon looked to the boarded windows near the ceiling, trying to ascertain where the inhuman noise had come from.

Barney was by his side in an instant, looking to Kleiner urgently. "Doc, we don't have time for this!" He looked over at Gordon. "At least get that suit juiced up, Gordon."

He blinked, looking to his friend in confusion. "Okay…"

"Good idea," Dr Kleiner said, tossing the clipboard onto the desk and walking past Gordon. "There's a charger on the wall." He walked to the far side of the lab, coming to a metal object attached to the ageing brickwork. A steady orange light glowed from a small bulb in the centre of the dark metal structure. "I modified your suit to draw power from Combine energy outlets, which are plentiful wherever _they_ patrol."

Gordon just stared blankly at the thing before slowly walking over. He looked around the object for a power cable, and looked to his mentor hopelessly when he came up empty. Barney barely hid his impatient sigh as he folded his arms.

Finally, Dr Kleiner seemed to get the silent message from Gordon and sprung to life. "Oh! I am sorry, Gordon. The suit has been modified to receive power through a sensor energy port on the left elbow of the suit."

"Elbow?" he muttered, lifting the appropriate limb and examining it. He couldn't see anything out of the ordinary - just the same workmanlike grey that covered the rest of the suit. With an encouraging nod from Kleiner, Gordon slowly moved it into alignment with the light on the charger. The familiar noise mechanically whirred into the air, and Gordon watched as a status bar slowly moved down the charger, eventually hitting rock bottom and chiming negatively. Gordon checked his stats and then looked to Dr Kleiner, satisfied with the results. Hopefully it wouldn't stop working if he accidentally hit something with his elbow.

But Dr Kleiner had probably taken that all into account.

Probably.

Alyx sauntered up between them, looking first to Gordon, and then to Dr Kleiner. "Meanwhile, let's get this show on the road."

Without even a nod of confirmation, Kleiner walked to a picture hung on the wall behind him. As Gordon looked closer, he noticed it was a picture from when Breen had insisted on a group photo of everyone together. Gordon had felt somewhat put out by the whole thing, since he had only been there for a few weeks. Yet, there he was in the group shot, his glasses reflecting the flash of the camera and blanking out his eyes. Strange that it only happened to him and no one else who wore glasses. Dr Breen's picture had been viciously scraped out, however, and Gordon couldn't agree more. With the slightest nudge of his finger, Kleiner tilted the picture with a click.

In the dirty brown pillar beside him, a panel slid aside to reveal a glowing blue retinal scanner. Gordon watched as Kleiner ducked his head and put his eye to the light. With an affirmative beep, the wall from which the picture hung moved aside surprisingly quietly, giving enough room for one person to enter the room beyond at a time. Quickly following Kleiner, Barney ploughed past both Gordon and Alyx, rushing into the room. Alyx looked to Gordon with a cocked 'well, what are you waiting for?' eyebrow.

In answer, Gordon adjusted his glasses and gestured for her to enter first. For the second time since she had met him, she stared and blinked as though he had two heads. Then with a faint, confused smile, she went through the doorway. Gordon followed, and had to withhold his gasp as he saw what was inside. On his left and above his head, a small walkway supported Dr Kleiner as he tapped away vigorously on a control panel. Across from Kleiner and on Gordon's right, a semi-circular framework with the flat end open to him had been erected up to the two-storey ceiling. A circular platform at the bottom was attached to the metal poles, leading Gordon to the assumption that one was supposed to stand on it.

Directly above Gordon's head and pointing at the framework was something that confirmed that theory. A bulbous, grey-blue metal contraption hung above him, large enough to be a compact car and with a blue light emanating from a circle at the front, which in turn was pointing at the empty platform. A row of shelves in front of Gordon held columns of control panels and devices, including a TV screen in the top right hand corner. At the moment, only static buzzed across its' surface.

"Gordon," Dr Kleiner announced, sounding like he was further away than he actually was, "why don't you position yourself next to the panel over there," he said, nodding behind Gordon, "and wait for my word?"

"Um…" he turned, looking around to find a power box with several heavy-duty electricity cables plugged into sockets beside it. He checked back with his mentor for confirmation, but Kleiner was already occupied with the now speaking television screen.

"_Isaac, are you there?"_

Fizzling static flickered and gave way to the face of another friendly face, this one even more marred by time than any other Gordon had met today. Eli Vance's kind - and white haired, Gordon couldn't help noticing - visage filled the screen, although he wasn't looking at Gordon just yet. Something was occupying his attention just beneath the screen, most likely some kind of fiddly keyboard.

"Yes, yes, Eli," Dr Kleiner said, sounding preoccupied already. "Bit of a hold-up on this end. You'll never guess who found his way into our lab this morning."

The smile practically emanated from his voice.

Eli looked out of the screen at Gordon and smiled, ducking his head and squinting a little to better see. He let out a small laugh. _"That's not who I think it is, is it?"_

"Indeed it is. And we intend to send him packing straight away in the company of your lovely daughter."

"_Nice to see you, Gordon."_

Speechless for a moment, Gordon smiled warmly and nodded. "You too."

As though brought to life at the mention of her, Alyx suddenly popped back into Gordon's vision, looking to Eli through the screen. "Are you ready for us, dad?"

Dad. It still gave Gordon shivers at this point. That Alyx… that _everyone _could be this old… and he was exactly the same. Dr Kleiner had his HEV suit ready, yet they all seemed so surprised to see him, and Kleiner had said that he had 'expected more warning'… From who? Were they expecting him? Eli, in particular, made Gordon curious. His reaction seemed less surprised than lightly amused at seeing his friend again.

The aforementioned doctor pressed some out-of-sight buttons and nodded. _"We're all set on this end."_

"Then let's do it," Alyx said slowly, looking less sure than she sounded as she walked past Gordon and onto the platform. Four thin, curved planks of metal rotated around from the back of the framework and started circling around it, growing in speed until they were grey blurs. The familiar whine of a teleporter filled the room and filled Gordon's head with memories from the day before. The Lambda labs, irascible scientists, some large aliens, the Gluon Gun… Wilder, dying as Gordon leapt into the unknown… and that soldier.

Gordon wondered why his thoughts kept on drifting back to him.

Dr Kleiner started muttering to himself, bringing Gordon out of his reminiscing. "Let's see… the massless field flux should self-limit, and I've clamped the manifold parameters to C-Y Base, and LG Orbi-fold… Hilbert inclusive."

Only half of that made sense to Gordon, and that was only because Dr Kleiner had explained Hilbert parameters to him a few days ago. Or a few years. Reminiscing was going to be difficult.

"Conditions could hardly be more ideal," Dr Kleiner said, satisfied.

Barney didn't look the same, his concerned gaze locked on Alyx, who had now been raised off the floor by the platform beneath her feet. "That's what you said last time."

As though just realising, Alyx raised a cautious finger. "Hey, yeah, about that cat…"

Her companions were otherwise occupied at this point, however. Dr Kleiner was buried in the control panel before him, his glasses reflecting the luminous text on his screens. "Initialising in three, two, one… Gordon, go right ahead."

Uh-oh. That sounded ominous. As though he were expecting Gordon to do something. With jerky, unsure movements, Gordon looked to the power box behind him and let out a sigh of relief as he saw the plastic cover over the handle automatically lift. His purpose clear, Gordon reached out and slammed the thick red handle over.

"Very good. Final sequence, commencing… now."

"I can't look."

Barney's shaky voice made Gordon turn to face him, then to look at Alyx above them. A turquoise blue glow began emanating from her centre and slowly spreading outwards, random spirals of green energy shooting out and winding around her. Alyx looked at her hands experimentally.

"Uh… okay… okay…" The glow from the device hanging above Gordon and Barney's head began to glow intensely. Alyx's voice echoed around the room, distorted as though speaking through a computer. "Oh… no-"

She genuinely sounded like she was having the time of her life.

And with a flash, she was gone. The machinery slowly began to wind down, the whine of the machinery gradually lowering in pitch until the spinning plates had returned to their position at the back of the framework and the platform was on the ground floor.

Gordon looked to Barney unsurely, who in turn looked to the TV. Static filled the screen.

"Well…" Dr Kleiner asked, suddenly sounding less sure of his technology than before. "Did it work?"

After a few flickers of the screen, Eli's smiling visage returned, standing up as though to allow someone else to come into shot. _"See for yourself."_

Alyx flopped her head into view, a small smile gracing her features. _"Hey doc!"_ She stood and gave a her feather of a kiss on the cheek before retreating to the rear of whatever kind of lab Eli had set up for himself.

Kleiner sounded pleased, to say the least. "Thank goodness. My relief is almost palpable."

Eyes still on his daughter, Eli had to turn around before he replied. _"Fantastic work, Izzy."_

"Well, I can't take all the credit." Dr Kleiner looked to Gordon with more than a hint of pride in his voice. "Dr Freeman proved an able assistant."

Barney and Gordon exchanged a cocked eyebrow with one another, and Gordon couldn't help but smile. It had been a long time since the two of them had shared a moment of sheer confusion over Dr Kleiner's speeches.

"_Let's go ahead and bring Gordon through now," _Eli said, tapping away at a keyboard beneath the screen.

Dr Kleiner nodded. "Right you are. Speak to you again in a few moments."

Barney, meanwhile, was grinning ear to ear as he faced Gordon, hands on his hips. "Good job, Gordon. Throwin' that switch an' all? I can see that your MIT education really pays for itself."

"All right now, Barney," Kleiner said from above, cutting off Gordon's less than spectacular response, "your turn."

"Gee, thanks," the ex-security guard grumbled, bypassing Gordon and walking to the power box behind him.

"Good to see your security guard education paying for itself," he muttered just loud enough for Barney to hear.

"At least I get dental."

"With no vacation."

Already at work on the control panel in front of him, Kleiner didn't even look up as he spoke, ignorant of their quiet repartee. "Gordon, the moment you're in position, we'll send you to Eli's."

Barney's smile faded, replaced by a grim determination on his features that seemed out of place. "And not a moment too soon."

Gordon decided at that moment that he didn't particularly like change. He noticed that three faces were staring at him expectantly, and Gordon moved with a start, walking into the teleporter.

Three metal barriers clanged into place behind him as he stepped inside, and Gordon turned to face his friends.

Dr Kleiner nodded absently. "Excellent. Initialising in three, two, one…"

The three curved metal strips began to rotate around him, and the platform on which he stood steadily rose from the ground. After a few more moments, the metal strips were just a blur around him. The teleportation device hanging from the ceiling was now directly parallel to him, the blue glow from the lens of the machine merging with the lights of the strips.

"Barney, if you'd be so kind…?"

Gordon blinked at the sound of Dr Kleiner's voice. He looked to Barney, who was giving him his customary two-fingered salute.

"Good luck out there, Gordon." He slammed the red handle across, the light from the teleporter intensified slightly.

"Yes indeed," Dr Kleiner announced, the faintest of smiles on his lips. At least, Gordon thought he was smiling. It was hard to tell with all the blue light. "We're ready to project you, Gordon. Bon voyage, and best of luck in all your future endeavours. Final sequence."

A gradual wince pushed its' way across Gordon's face as he waited for the teleportation. He wasn't sure _why _he was so nervous. In the past few hours (his time, obviously), he had been jumping through portals in labs and alien worlds. Surely one that was run by his close friends would be even _safer_.

The loud thump from the air-vent running along the ceiling of the lab quickly dispelled that notion. With a loud clang, a headcrab fell ungracefully onto two small power boxes sticking out of the wall beside the teleporter. As the hatch of the vent swung around, it dislodged two thick black cables, sending them sparking wildly around the lab.

Barney ducked down as sparks showered over him. A brief, high-pitched alarm sounded, and he looked up. "What the hell?"

"What is it?" Kleiner yelled.

"It's your pet, the freakin' head-humper!"

Gordon squinted through the blue haze around him to see that the headcrab in fact had no teeth. Ah. It was Lamarr. And look at that! It was turning to face him. And… looking like it was about to jump at him.

"Lamarr…" Kleiner warned, although his voice was severely drowned out at this point. "Heddy, no!"

The headcrab took that moment to leap at Gordon. Barney cried out as the toothless creature reached Gordon. "Look out!"

Instinctively, his hands were up, ready to smash the troublesome little thing away. A flash of bright light made him freeze. Opening his eyes, Gordon found himself on a beach, pieces of debris strewn about the tide as it steadily moved in and out. Lamarr was now leaping away from him, having found a crow to distract its' attention. A vortex of rainbow lights danced around his vision, like he was watching through a tunnel.

With another flash, he was back in Kleiner's lab.

Barney pointed up at him. "There he is!"

"Is Lamarr with him?" Gordon could see Kleiner trying his utmost to peer through the blue lights.

He tried not to sigh at his mentor's unsurpassable concern for him.

"Get him out of that thing!"

Flash again, and suddenly Alyx was in front of him, wringing her hands.

"He's coming through, dad!"

Through the swirling vortex interfering with his vision, Gordon could just make out what he assumed was Eli's lab. He was in a metal construct similar to the one in Dr Kleiner's lab, although this was on the ground floor. On his right was Eli, tapping away on a computer. To the left, a woman with brown hair tied up in a bun with black sticks worked feverishly on another computer. She looked familiar.

"What's going on, Judith?" Eli asked, taking just a moment to glance over his shoulder before returning his attention to the computer.

Judith? That name was familiar too.

"I'm not sure." She moved her head closer to the screen, as though to see the readings more clearly. "It seems to be some kind of interference."

_Interference?_

That didn't sound good. Less than good. It sounded like something the Man would do. His lips forming a thin line, he made a move to try and push his way out of the teleporter.

"Gordon, stay put!" Eli warned, stabbing an authoritative finger down towards the ground. Gordon stopped. "We'll get you out of there!"

"Something's pulling him away."

As soon as the words were out of Judith's mouth, Gordon again found himself somewhere else. But it wasn't Dr Kleiner's lab, or the beach. He was in a very luxurious looking office. A grand wooden desk was spread out in front of him, a red carpet running from underneath and out of Gordon's vision to the left. It was then that Gordon realised that he couldn't move.

Behind the desk, presumably working on something, a very alarmed Dr Wallace Breen leapt to his feet upon seeing the intruder. Gordon could barely make out his features, but he was fairly sure it was him.

"What's the meaning of this? Who are you? How did you get in here?"

Oh yes. It was him. That haughty tone was recognisable anywhere. Breen reached for an intercom button on the desk.

On cue, Gordon was whisked back to Dr Kleiner's with another flash. Barney gestured wildly in his direction, looking back to Kleiner frantically.

"Hey, hey, he's back!" Dr Kleiner was seemingly occupied with something on the computer, however. With a grumble and a determined crick of his neck, Barney looked to Gordon with determination. "I'm getting him outta there."

He took two steps forward when Dr Kleiner yelled at a volume rare for him. "You can't just _wade_ into the field! It will peel you apart!"

Alyx's voice rang out from the television screen below. _"We just lost Gordon! What's going on?"_

For the first time since he had known him, Dr Kleiner looked and sounded like he was panicking. "I wish I knew! We're experiencing unexpected interference!"

Barney looked to Gordon desperately, his frustration at his uselessness palpable. "Hang tight, Gordon! We'll get you out of there!"

But he was already fading, giving way to another flash of light and Eli's lab.

"There he is!" Alyx exclaimed, although she looked less happy than panicked.

Judith groaned as though one of her tests was going wrong. "We're losing him again!"

_Ah. Hello Dr Breen. We meet again. _

Except this time he wasn't alone. On several large monitors behind his rather expensive looking desk, something that Gordon could only describe as a green slug looked back to Dr Breen as he spoke.

"The man I saw. I'm all but certain it was…" As though alive, the monitors moved so that the slug was looking directly at Gordon. Frowning, Breen looked over his shoulder and saw him. "…Gordon Freeman."

With another flash, Gordon was elsewhere once again, and suddenly submerged in water. His slightly ghostlike state prevented any of the water from touching him, however. It was a strange feeling; being underwater but not being able _feel_ the water. Something moved in the brown murkiness in front of him. Then, bursting through, one of the giant fish creatures that Gordon had been forced to take out with a tranquilliser gun two days ago came at him. Enraged at the uninvited guest, it let out a muffled roar as it opened its' maw and went for him.

And then, Gordon was somewhere else. Looking down, he saw he was standing on a metal walkway. Well, he would have been if his feet could touch the ground. As it was, they were floating just above it, leaving only an inch or so between the soles of his boots and the metal floor. The walkway was running along a building in front of him. Looking ahead, Gordon could see through some shutters in the window just in front of him. He was behind Dr Kleiner.

Eli's voice crackled through the haze around Gordon, and he saw a monitor beside Kleiner with his worried visage.

"_He didn't come through!"_

"Then… where is he?" Dr Kleiner seemed at a loss of something to do, moving this way and that as he considered one form of action and then dismissed it as futile.

Gordon brought up a struggling hand - God, it was like wading through sludge - and offered a small wave. Eli's worried gaze slowly fell on him. "_Behind you."_

With a start, Dr Kleiner cried out as he spotted the floating, bespectacled scientist outside his window.

"_Shut it down, shut it down!"_

Kleiner nodded breathlessly, tapping at some random controls on his computer before turning back to Gordon.

"Gordon, you must get _out _of here! Run!"

"Get down outta sight!" Barney's bodiless voice yelled out. "I'll come find you."

With a sudden decrease in pitch, the teleporter shut down, and Gordon was back in the real world after one more blinding flash. His feet touched down on the metal walkway without a sound. He looked to the window, and saw that the shutters were closed, making it look like just another derelict, broken down building. A low beeping from behind drew Gordon's attention around, where another flash blinded him.

But rather than finding himself somewhere else, Gordon had to blink the stars out of his eyes to find one of the floating camera devices looking at him curiously. Gordon looked around. The ground below wasn't that far down. Grasping the guardrail, he vaulted over, ignoring the camera as it darted back from him in alarm. He landed with a dusty thump on the ground below, and made his way into the fenced area beyond that ran around the building.

The huge white power generators buzzed as he darted through them, trying to keep them between him and the camera. It already had one picture of him, it wasn't going to get anymore soon. At the far end of the fenced area, Gordon could see some stairs leading up to a doorway. Launching himself away in a sprint, Gordon pounded up the stairs and almost the knocked the door from its' hinges as he slammed his way through it, quickly closing it behind him.

The alleyway in front of him took him forward a few feet and then turned off to the right. The wall on his left was pretty much insurmountable, and the one on his right - although it had a guardrail, indicating there was some way of getting up there - looked pretty much the same.

Keeping to the right-hand wall, Gordon swiftly made his way onwards, turning the corner and coming to a view that made him stop in his tracks. He could see almost the entire city from where he stood, stretching out in front of him like an endless grey canvas. The metal blue of the Citadel stood out as much as the height of the thing did. Another metallic groan sounded - like the one that had interrupted Dr Kleiner earlier, Gordon noted - and Gordon watched as sections of the alien skyscraper seemed to separate from the main structure and shift around, as though preparing for an attack.

"Hey, Gordon!"

The friendly voice echoed around the area, and Gordon struggled to identify its' source, whipping his head around urgently as he did so. Looking above him, he saw Barney waving down to him from the 'balcony' wall. He gripped the guardrail as he leant forward, looking to the city landscape.

"The Citadel's on full alert; I've never seen it lit up like that!" He made it sound like they were in school and Gordon had pissed off the headmaster.

"I try."

Barney cracked a grin. "Yeah, I heard." And suddenly he was all business again, in a manner that was still alien to Gordon. "Get out of City 17 as fast as you can, Gordon. Take the old canals, right? They'll get you to Eli's lab. It's a dangerous route, but there's a whole network of refugees, and they'll help you if they can. I'd come with you, but I've gotta look after Dr Kleiner." He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder to the building from which he had emerged.

Gordon opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again, simply nodding.

Barney thrust a Kleiner-esque finger into the air. "Oh, and before I forget…" He knelt and picked something up from the floor. Bringing it up into the sunlight, Gordon finally recognised it. A crowbar. "I think you dropped this back in Black Mesa."

With a smile and a wink, he let it drop to the ground in front of Gordon. Slowly and cautiously, he walked to the tool/weapon, scooping it up with the same reverence that a Knight would pick up his sword. Rusting red paint with metallic grey tips on either end… it was exactly the same. Suddenly, Gordon felt a little bit more at home in this brave new world. A little bit safer.

It disturbed him that a crowbar could comfort him more than his closest friends could. He gave Barney a little wave with the weapon.

"Thank you. Now I can… hit things. And people."

"It's what I'm here for," he offered with a wink. Barney's small smile faded, and he gave Gordon a small salute. "Good luck out there, buddy. You're gonna need it."

And with the faintest of encouraging smiles, Barney was gone, heading back into the building to see to whatever responsibilities he now had. It was odd to see him attend to duties with such vigour and enthusiasm. Back at Black Mesa, Gordon was sometimes left wondering why Barney had ever decided to become a security guard; he seemed to hate every minute of it, and vocally confirmed as much at every opportunity. But now he had responsibility.

Gordon clenched the crowbar in his gloved hand. Come to think of it, so did he. These people seemed to be putting a lot of faith in him, and he wasn't even sure what the hell it was that he was supposed to be doing. What would happen at Eli's lab? Was it a way to put right whatever had happened to the world?

He adjusted his glasses, cricked his neck, and moved forward, heading for a darkened passageway with some stairs. Inside, some crates blocked the way. With far more relish than he would have thought possible, he demolished the troublesome wooden boxes in a few seconds before moving on. At the bottom of the stairway, he came out overlooking a train yard, several parallel tracks stretching out across in front of him, tunnels on either side. A gap in some fencing in front of him allowed him to slip through. Or at least, it would have if another of the floating cameras hadn't shoved itself into his face.

It began the rapid clicking noise that always seemed to precede it taking a bright, flashing picture.

Gordon smiled. "Cheese."

With a swing of the crowbar, he smashed the camera with a satisfying metallic crunch, sending it careening off in all directions before it slammed into the side of the parked train, landing on the ground. It fizzled and beeped as it died, giving Gordon an even deeper sense of satisfaction.

A sound akin to a gun going off made Gordon duck his head, but a quick glance upwards changed his mind as he saw a bright red flare launch up into the sky. On cue, several silhouetted figures appeared on the horizon of a wall on his right. This time, it actually _was _gunfire he would hear. A bullet hit a metal post on the fence in front of him, sparking violently. Gordon ducked his head and slipped through the hole, dropping to the train tracks below. The trailer in front of him was open on the side, and he clambered up.

He awkwardly stumbled his way through the collection of crates and cardboard boxes that filled it, coming out on the other side of the trailer and into the middle of the train tracks, sandwiched between two parked trailers. On either side, Gordon could see that the tunnels were covered by blue, fizzling force fields. So that wasn't a viable escape route. He could hear the beep of the CP radios as they mumbled instructions to each other.

Their noise was quickly drowned out by a loud honking coming from the tunnel on Gordon's left. The headlights of the train made Gordon squint as it thundered towards him. It didn't take much more incentive than that to make him turn and run. Eventually, he reached the end of the parked trailer on his left and threw himself off to the side, letting the train sail past - and, conveniently, take any bullets that had been flying his way.

Scrabbling to his feet, Gordon adjusted his glasses and slipped between the next two trailers. An opening in the one in front of him yielded a way out, and Gordon quickly found himself climbing up a ladder inside and poking his head out of a hatch in the top. In front of him a fenced off area displayed a stairway blocked off by planks of wood, leading to a dark corridor beyond. A bullet whizzed by his ear, and Gordon ducked back down again. Between dark corridors and being shot at, Gordon decided that he preferred dark corridors every time.

After a few moments of silent pep-talks, Gordon launched himself up and leapt from the roof of the stationary train, clearing the fence and landing speedily on the ground on the other side. His momentum turned the landing into a roll, his glasses coming perilously close to flying off as he got to his feet and rushed to the blocked off doorway in the fence. A bullet landed with an incredibly painful thud in the small of his back. The HEV suit stayed mercifully silent as Gordon fell to his knee, hissing through clenched teeth as he lifted his crowbar.

If there was one thing he had learnt from Black Mesa, it was that being shot was a great motivator. This seemed to be true in City 17 as well, since the wooden boards blocking his way were gone in a matter of seconds. Rushing through, Gordon shook his head as he made his way into the darkened corridor beyond. Was this going to be the constant in his life from now on? Running, smashing, being shot?

A stairway in front of him showed a lit corridor at the bottom going off to the right.

The weird thing was, Gordon was actually okay with the new status quo.

As long as he had his crowbar, of course.

--

(A/N: Thanks to BlindAcquiescence for fine beta work. I haven't got much to add to this chapter, so please, review and tell me what you think!

_Next Chapter: Route Kanal)_


	3. Route Kanal

Disclaimer: I don't own Half-Life

Disclaimer: I don't own _Half-Life._

_**Welcome to City 17**_

_**Chapter Three: Route Kanal**_

The harsh, pale blue light of the corridor let nothing go unnoticed. Papers strewn about, crushed into the floor from so many footsteps coming through. Other random objects caught Gordon's eye, like ancient milk cartons and a can of Breen's private reserve. Gordon was a little surprised that Breen hadn't enslaved some poor souls to pick up all the litter and debris scattered across the city.

"Help me!"

The cry rang through the corridor, surrounding him. It had come from the corridor up ahead that went off to the left. Squeezing the crowbar tighter, Gordon rushed around the corner as he heard the dull thud of something hard colliding with a human being's head. It disturbed Gordon that he knew what that sounded like. Midway down the corridor, two Civil Protection officers stood over a civilian, his body crumpled into a foetal position as he tried to protect himself from their blows. One of the officers had his gun brandished, while the other was happy with his fizzling, electric tipped nightstick.

A woman, the origin of the desperate cry from earlier, grabbed onto the CP with the gun, clutching his back gloved wrist. Gordon started running.

"Stop, we didn't do anything!"

Ghoulish mask whipping around in anger, the CP struck out with the back of his hand, knocking the woman back against the wall. Gordon's face hardened with the grip on his crowbar.

The CP with the nightstick brought his weapon up again, about to bring it down on the fallen man in front of him.

Gordon reached out and grabbed his wrist. Oh, how he had been waiting for this.

"No."

His victim barely had a chance to look up before Gordon thwacked the blunt side of the crowbar into the back of his knee. Out of the corner of his eye, Gordon could see the other CP turning to face him. He lashed out with the crowbar, hitting him in the stomach and unleashing a loud grunt of pain. Returning to the CP he held, Gordon smashed the crowbar around the back of his head, the momentum of the swung sending his head colliding face first into the wall. His mask cracked on impact, white plastic shattering to the floor. Releasing his grip on the now unconscious officer, Gordon wrapped both hands around the crowbar and, with a baseball swing that would have made any number of sports alumni proud, smashed it across the masked face of the other CP.

With a garbled yell, the CP whirled around from the blow, pieces of his mask spreading out down the corridor and across the floor. He landed with a dull thud, the sudden silence pierced by a flat-line tone coming from his radio. Gordon frowned. He didn't hit him that hard. The tone suddenly bleeped off, replaced by a mechanical female voice. Although it was scrambled, Gordon could make out that others would be on the way.

"They'll be looking for you now."

Gordon looked down to the woman, who crouched by her companion.

"You'd better run. There's nothing more you can do here."

He looked down at the unconscious man below him. For all he knew, that man could have a concussion, and this woman may not have any knowledge of medicine. "But-"

"Get going!"

The sudden outburst made Gordon blink, and, after a stunned little nod, he scooped up the handgun the CP had been using and went on his way. After a sharp left turn, Gordon was brought to a stairway that extended forward and then back above his head. Crowbar gripped in his left hand and pistol in the right, Gordon started making his way up. Clanking footsteps on the metal stairs above him made Gordon take a step back, and he watched as a CP hurriedly descended, his body visible through the gaps between the thin steps.

Gordon took aim with the handgun and fired off three shots, one connecting with the back of his enemies' legs. With a radio garbled grunt, the CP fell forward, tumbling down the stairs towards the platform between stairways. Without pause, Gordon raced up with crowbar raised as the CP hit the wall. Lashing out with a backhanded blow, Gordon managed to rip through the ghoulish white mask, sending a thin trail of blood flicking across the wall.

The same high pitched whine blasted out of his radio, quickly cut off by a few beeps and the female voice. Gordon was already up the stairs and coming to another corridor at the far right of the room ahead, sunlight shining inside from an upward angle. As he approached it, it became clear that it was another stairway heading up into the open air, and Gordon pressed his back to the wall beside the entrance. No sense in charging in without a plan.

Gordon thought about it. He didn't know anything about City 17. He didn't know anything about how Civil Protection operated, or the strategies they used.

He sighed. Shooting blindly and running a lot it was, then. He cricked his neck.

"Sounds like a plan," he murmured almost incoherently before whirling himself around the corner, handgun at the ready. A single CP officer was racing down the stairway, pistol already drawn. His first and only panicked shot went straight over Gordon's head. Gordon fired once, the bullet crashing through the mask and sending a spatter of blood out the other side.

With only a quick blow of relieved breath by way of recuperation, Gordon bounded up the stone stairway and past the body, squinting as the sun hit his bespectacled eyes. Holding up his gun hand to shelter his eyes, Gordon took stock of his position. He was overlooking two parallel train tracks about fifteen feet below, going into a force field protected tunnel on the right-hand side. Tall fences prevented anyone falling in, although a gap revealed a metal stairway that was probably only supposed to be used by staff. Gordon looked down at the HEV suit. With a shrug, he decided that it sort of made him qualified.

Following the train tracks down to the left with his eyes, Gordon saw that they led to another tunnel, although this one was lacking the force field. His gaze travelled up to the other side of the tracks and to the platform opposite him. There were tall stacks of shipping containers that would have been impressive to Gordon if he hadn't spent two days dodging between them. Further right from them, a completely destroyed and ramshackle single floor house didn't seem to invite many visitors.

Gordon frowned. The fence extended all the way to the tunnel on the left, so that stopped that option. Down the stairs it was. After a quick check to see that his glasses were on straight, Gordon stepped onto the metal deck and started making his way down. The loud horn of an oncoming train quickly made him back-pedal, the combination of which with the metal flooring made him slip and collide rather awkwardly with the stairs, rear end first. Although the pain was dulled significantly by the HEV suit, it still wasn't a pleasant experience, having one's own feet make a fool of him.

With a bitter grunt of disgust, Gordon heaved himself to his feet as a train carrying only fuel tankers trundled past. The thundering noise was beginning to dissipate, however, and watching the train, he understood why; it was slowing down. Which could only mean…

Gun suddenly at the ready, Gordon pressed his back to the wall and whipped his gaze up to the gap in the fence leading to the stairs. The train finally came to a screeching halt. Only allowing quick glances, Gordon surmised that there wasn't enough room for him to move quickly down the side of the train; it took up the entire 'corridor'. He did notice that there was a sizeable gap between the end of the train and the opening of the tunnel it had just come through.

A CP radio beeped angrily above him, the unintelligible voice that came after it even angrier. There were several of them. How many, he couldn't be sure, but it was definitely enough for at least one of them to be able to get a good shot off at him. Gordon frowned. Although… that CP on the stone stairway had seemed rather panicked. And from what he had seen these weren't particularly well trained people. They just weren't used to being challenged when they had nightsticks and guns on their side.

And, seriously, over the past two days Gordon had killed countless killer aliens, about twenty highly trained marines, a tentacle monster, a helicopter, a tank (he was still quite proud of that one) and a creature that could use the power of its' mind to create portals and launch an invasion against the entire planet.

Bring it on, Civil Protection.

Gordon clenched his eyes shut and smacked his head with the back of his hand. Why did he keep thinking these stupid things that he would only be punished for later?

A grunted sentence from above made Gordon spring back to the real world. It sounded suspiciously like 'Check the stairs'.

Clenching his hands around both of his weapons, Gordon took aim at the head of the stairs. With a speed belying the clumsiness of the earlier officers, a CP darted his head through the gateway and looked down the stairs. As Gordon squeezed the shot off, he ducked his head back inside. Gordon muttered his first curse of the day, and it was a doozy.

Leaping onto the rounded surface of the oil tanker beside him, Gordon started running to the tunnel. He heard the flare going up as the officers behind him shouted out some warnings. Bullets whizzed around him, the shots sounding like violent firecrackers going off from this distance. One bullet hit him firmly in the shoulder, knocking his pacing off and sending him tumbling precariously close to falling off the side and into an incredibly awkward wedged position against the wall. With a warning glare to his feet, Gordon regained his footing and reached the end of the train, leaping with his arms wind-milling madly. He landed feet first, his momentum turning it into a forward roll. Gordon paused for just a moment to catch his breath before the gunshots clapping through the air urged him on. A force field halfway down the tunnel stopped him from reaching the other side, but Gordon could see a lit walkway running along the roof, giving him another route.

A large indentation in the wall on the right revealed a light source, and Gordon headed towards that at a steady jogging pace. The metallic thunk that came from around the corner slowed his pace considerably, as did the crackling flame that echoed into the tunnel. As Gordon started backing up a barrel trundled into the tunnel, flames almost completely hiding the flammability label. He took a few more steps back before aiming his weapon at the flaming obstacle. Turning his head around with eyes tightly shut, he fired. It exploded with a resounding bang, the proximity leaving Gordon's ears ringing as he opened his eyes.

With only a few blinks to get himself back into the game, Gordon walked to the corner of the entrance built into the side of the tunnel. The steady treading of several pairs of boots grew closer, and Gordon lifted the crowbar up beside him with his left hand. As the first CP emerged, he swung the crowbar around, cracking it against the officer's shins and sending him tumbling to the ground. The second CP following behind him barely had a chance to grunt in surprise before Gordon had brought his handgun up and fired off a shot into his face.

The third and final CP dodged around his comrades collapsing body, grabbing Gordon's gun hand and hitting it against the wall. Gordon nailed him in the back of his knees with the crowbar, temporarily stunning his erstwhile opponent and freeing his gun hand. Whirling around, he took out the first CP - who had barely managed to get to his feet - with a single shot, and then did the same to the third.

The weapon in his hand exposed its' inner workings, the cocking mechanism pulled back to inform him it was empty. With a grimace, Gordon tossed it away and fished out the handgun of the third CP. The white mask was cracked, revealing the man underneath. Gordon tried not to think about how the eyes were wide open, staring blankly up at him. He continued on up some stairs beside him. They led through some corridors that took him through the bridge he had spied from below, eventually bringing him over the force field and to a balcony overlooking the other half of the tunnel.

"Huh," Gordon muttered.

That was actually quite a drop. On the other side of the tunnel, there was a small indentation in the wall, intended for maintenance workers and the like to get at the small power boxes housed there. It would be enough for him to take cover in, at least until he figured out just where the hell he was going. The distant grumblings of CP radio chatter spurred him on, and Gordon just dropped down without even pausing for his customary shrug. There were times when even silent witty asides had to wait.

Although the pain from the vertical drop was dulled by the suit somewhat, it still hurt like a motherbitch - that one was Barney's - and he had to hobble awkwardly into the indentation. Distant gunshots cracked through the air, taking chips out of the walls and the gritty floor. They were coming from the exit of the tunnel - Gordon's only way out at this point.

Taking the time to sigh this time, Gordon pressed himself into the corner of the indentation and peeked around the corner. Three CPs were coming at him along the train tracks. They had clearly stopped the traffic in this area, so there was no hope of a convenient train coming along and wiping them out. If he was in Black Mesa, he could have relied on some random bombing or alien appearance helping him out. Now all he had was… well, him.

He closed his eyes and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his crowbar hand. He was missing Black Mesa. This place must be bad.

Chancing another glance around the corner, Gordon noticed outside of the tunnel, there was the shadow cast of a rather large fence on the wall on the left hand side. Even more interesting, he could see a warped and broken gap in the corner of the fence closest to him. So that was his way out.

If not for the marksmen coming at him. Poorly trained marksmen, but they had guns nonetheless.

Checking his stats, Gordon figured he would just have to wing it. If he protected his head, then the HEV would be able to take the brunt of the bullets. It would hurt - a _lot_ - but at least he would be alive by the end of it. That was all assuming that the gap in the fence would take him somewhere. For all he knew, it could take him into a closed off lake of sewage. That _would _be about his speed.

With a crick of his neck, Gordon whirled around the corner, firing off a few shots at the surprisingly close CPs. In fact, they were only a few running strides in front of him, and seemed to be pretty shocked that he was coming at them like this. Gordon whipped his crowbar around, catching the right CP on the head and taking him out instantly. Middle and Left brought up their guns. With a quick flick of the crowbar, Gordon managed to divert Middle's gunshot up into the air and respond with one of his own, shooting him in the leg.

Left's shot hit Gordon in the left shoulder, shoving him back with all the force of a well placed punch. As Left squeezed the trigger again, Gordon brought up his forearm to take the shot, charging forward at the unwitting CP as he fired. The bullet thumping against his arm almost made Gordon divert away, but he gritted his teeth and kept going forward, swinging the crowbar up in a wide arc, catching Left's wrist and sending the gun whirling across the train tracks.

For a brief moment, the two enemies stared at each other, both surprised at the ease at which Gordon had dismantled the group of enforcers. But with a sudden jerk of the crowbar, Gordon had knocked the CP to the floor, well and truly unconscious. He looked back to the only awake CP, who was foetal on the floor, clutching his bleeding thigh. The expressionless white mask stared up him, the officer's chest heaving from exertion. Gordon opened his mouth, trying to think of something to say.

"…sorry."

With a clueless shrug, Gordon was once again away, heading for the bent gap in the fence. And lo and behold, it led to a lake. Although this didn't look like sewage. In fact, it looked more like a… drained river? Gordon frowned. The rectangular area below him was cut off halfway by some tremendously large metal bars, but those too had been warped and bent open, just the right size for a person to fit through. A metal walkway that led to the buildings on the other side of the river had long since dropped away, only the very edges of it remaining and pointing downwards to the water like an annoyingly ironic road sign.

The water didn't look that deep, so it seemed that this fall was going to hurt as well. Gordon thought for a moment. So far today, he had been shot in the arm, the back, the shoulder and the arm again. He had jumped off trains and down several foot drops.

This was steadily becoming what he would classify as an average day. That scared him a lot. After a final look around for any other exits - none, since another tunnel further down the train tracks was also cordoned off by a force field - Gordon sighed and tossed the crowbar into the waters below. Keeping his now free hand on his glasses, Gordon leapt out and adopted a cannonball position.

With a muffled roar, Gordon was engulfed in water. And his rear end impacted suddenly and painfully with something rocky and pointy beneath him. Bursting up for air, Gordon let out an angry, loud 'ow' before letting himself even consider moving on. Slowly and with great consideration for the pain in his backside, Gordon tilted to the side and fished around for his crowbar. Thankfully he hadn't landed on that. He doubted that even the HEV suit could have stopped that poking through from that kind of drop.

Something sounding remotely like a van hurtled past, although Gordon couldn't tell where it was. The female voice was talking again, this time wittering on about 'off world assignment'. In another time and another place, that probably would have fascinated Gordon. Right now, he just wanted out of the water. Wading into the murky, dusty water, Gordon made his way around the floating crates and the broken metal bars and eventually coming up 'ashore' in front of a shipping container. It had somehow managed to wedge itself completely across Gordon's path, leaving no way around on either the left or right.

Scowling at the big metal box as though it were personally to blame for the way the water was stinging his eyes, Gordon looked around for a way up onto it. He found it on the left hand side in the form of a ladder on top. Unfortunately, the container also managed to block off the top of the tunnel in front of him. Muffled voices came from inside, although Gordon struggled to make them out.

People. Whether they were civilians or not, well… Gordon had his crowbar. A hatch in the top of the container gave Gordon _some _hope of moving forward on this twisted journey, and he wandered over to it, casting a weary glance around before dropping inside.

He was facing the wall.

"Good God!"

Gordon whipped around, crowbar at the ready. A haggard looking civilian was fumbling around for something beneath a small table, his short hair and stubble revealing quite a few old scars and some new ones. Getting up, he seemed oblivious to the fact Gordon was holding a weapon above his head. But then again, the tired man didn't really have Gordon's attention. The electricity alien sat at the far end of the container, however, did. It's clawed, spindly hand was hovering above an old television set, green energy transmitting into it. And for the briefest of moments, emerging from the static, _His_ face emerged. But then, just like that, it was gone. Removing it's hand from above the set, the energy it was transmitting ceased, the television switching off. As the man in front of him continued on, Gordon's attention remained on the alien creature behind him, preparing himself for whatever it was going to throw at him.

"Guess those sirens are for you, huh? You're not the first to come through here, and you won't be the-"

"This is the Free Man," the alien said, it's voice low and guttural. "The Combine's reckoning has come."

Well. Gordon had been prepared for many things. Talking wasn't one of them. Looking slightly awkward stood between them, the citizen glanced between the two.

"…look," he managed, speaking to Gordon and tearing his attention away from the electricity alien. "We're just a lookout for the underground railroad. Main station's right around the corner." He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, pointing to a sliding door behind him. "They'll get you started on the right foot."

Still seeming unsure of what exactly was going on between Gordon and the alien, he paused for a moment before continuing on. "Meanwhile, let my Vortigaunt friend here give you a jolt to get you going."

Gordon finally gave him his full attention. Vortigaunt? A green glow attracted Gordon's attention, and he watched as the creature raised a clawed hand, palm facing towards him. He whipped his gun around, aiming for the head.

"Whoa!" The man put his hand over Gordon's, forcing him to lower the weapon. "What're you doing?"

Frowning, he nodded to the Vortigaunt, who was staring back at him with naïve, blinking red eyes.

"But… alien…"

"What?"

The two both had the same clueless look on their faces. Looking at the creature, Gordon noticed that the green shackles that had been clasped around all of the electricity aliens he knew of were nowhere to be seen. His mind drifted back to the events of the previous day. Trapped in Xen, trying to make his way through some kind of factory… and the Vortigaunts helping him on his way.

Yet something else to learn about the future he was living in.

He looked to the man. "Nothing." Cautiously, he looked to the Vortigaunt, and nodded a sheepish apology.

With a facial gesture somewhat resembling a smile, the Vortigaunt shrugged its' shoulders and resumed its' previous action, putting its' palm out towards him. The green glow suddenly sprang out at him. Gordon couldn't help but flinch at the flash of light. But then the HEV suit beeped into life, informing him that it was charging from an external source. He felt the morphine administration units come back online, flooding his system and easing the pain from all the fights.

Then, suddenly, the Vortigaunt stopped, whipping its' head around like a wet dog as it spoke.

"That is all we can spare."

Gordon checked his stats. He was past half power. That was pretty good, considering. He nodded to the Vortigaunt, not quite ready to verbally communicate with them.

The man, now seeming a little more relaxed, tapped Gordon on the shoulder and nodded to the door. Gripping it slowly, he gave it a good yank and pulled it aside, the metal scraping against the side of the container noisily. Gordon could see the flickering amber of a fire splayed against the other side of the container, coming from outside.

"Be careful now," he said, his voice low. "We _really _can't afford to get noticed. Civil Protection catches you down here, it's bad news for the _whole_ railroad." He paused, looking around as though he would find something more meaningful to say in the ground. Finally, he settled for a sheepish look back up at Gordon.

"We serve the same mystery," the Vortigaunt muttered, and Gordon's back stiffened.

The civilian looked to the Vortigaunt, mystified. Without looking at Gordon, he waved him away. "Get outta here."

_Get outta here? Get outta here!? But I've got questions! Electricity aliens are our friends now!? And they watch an all powerful being of unknown origin that's been tormenting me on TV!? I'm not going anywhere!_

Gordon solemnly nodded, and hopped out of the container. He was in a rather tall, square tunnel, although he was even more convinced at this point that it used to be a riverbank. The container was closed noisily behind him, and Gordon didn't even bother looking back to check as he moved on. He could hear the two talking as he went, and he struggled to make out what exactly was being said while still moving forward.

"What the heck was all that Free Man and mystery talk about?" There was a pause. "You're such a weirdo."

The same thick gravely voice responded. "We have a history with the Freeman. The Freeman is a sign of change. The Freeman-"

"All right, all right! Sorry I asked. God." There was another pause, and Gordon turned around as he kept on walking, hoping for some more information.

"Do you think we should have warned him about the Barnacles ahead?"

Gordon frowned. _Barnacles?_

A rope-like shape wiped itself over his shoulder, and proceeded to wrap itself underneath his armpit, hefting him up into the air. A helicopter thundered over as Gordon looked up, seeing the same barrel shaped, mouth-type organisms that had been strewn all across the Black Mesa facility. With a few shots of his handgun, the thing was dead, its' tongue dangling loosely from the mouth. He had only been lifted a few inches into the air, so his boots made contact with the thick, sticky ground soon enough.

He waited a few more moments, and even toyed with the idea of going back. An almost inaudible sigh escaped his lips as he turned around and continued on. Why didn't he just ask? Surely there wouldn't have been any harm in it. The Vortigaunt gave him a charge, why would it object to answering some questions?

The answer, truthfully, was pretty apparent to Gordon.

He was a moron.

A moron who was a graduate of MIT with a PhD in Theoretical Physics, but a moron nonetheless.

Shaking his head as he went, Gordon continued on through the tunnel. A complex array of oil tankers and containers were strewn about the tunnel around him, compressing the passage in front of him and making it very difficult to see just where the hell he was going. After bumping face first into a few walls, Gordon managed to stumble his way out into the daylight.

Oh, that does it. He was definitely in a river bed. The path in front of him gradually descended into a thick green-black goop, the depth of which was impossible to tell from where he was standing. A huge grate on the right led into a large tunnel of a drain pipe, emergency red lights casting a hellish hue from the inside. The green goop spread out in front of him and went off to the left and the right. Neither direction seemed too appealing. Both ways would seem to leave him vulnerable to whatever CP forces were waiting up top to pick him off.

"Wait… wait!"

Gordon ducked his head and brought his pistol up. That was coming from the tunnel on his far right. A frenzied citizen fell onto the grate, looking to Gordon desperately.

"Help!"

A single gunshot in the back of his neck silenced him. He flopped to the floor, his head hitting the floor of the pipe with a sickening looseness. Gordon's grip on his two weapons tightened. Moving around the rocks and crates that made up the shore of 'beach' he was on, Gordon made his way so he could stand just beside the grate, making sure to stay out of sight.

Tinny, echoing footsteps came from inside, and Gordon pressed his back to the wall. From where he stood, he could barely see the CP's black glove as he knelt beside the fallen citizen, checking his pulse. Gordon came around and took him out with one shot. A loud bark of a warning came from the far side of the tunnel, and Gordon whipped his gaze up to see another CP stood at the mouth, weapon at the ready. Gordon whirled around to the other side of the grate.

He was stood next to the corner of the wall. Slowly, he peeked his head around. The river - when it _was_ a river - would have ended a few yards from where Gordon was hiding, where a sort of balcony area overlooked it. Atop it Gordon saw several CP officers, all of them more than aware of his presence. The one on the far left was stood behind some waist high black metal contraption, something thin and rectangular propped up atop it.

The high powered bullets that exploded against the wall beside him quickly educated Gordon as to its' use, and he yanked his head back around the corner. One of the bullets punctured through the brickwork just beside his head, making his ear burn and ring at the same time while showering him with dust. He hissed and put the back of his gun hand against his ear.

"Oh. Fun."

Poking his head back around to the tunnel, he noticed that the CP was nowhere to be seen. A little more confident, Gordon dared to stretch his neck around further, and found that there was an open hatch entrance just a little bit down the pipe. Of course, it was directly within the sights of the high powered machine gun thing they had going on up there, but still. It was another way in. The sunlight blazing inside cast the shadow of the once hidden CP, and Gordon realised where he had gone; he was waiting at the entrance for any smart aleck scientists to try and make a run for it.

Gordon cricked his neck. Well, he hated to disappoint. He looked down at the handgun and considered cocking it, but then realised that, even though he had been using them for two days straight, he still had little idea how guns actually _worked_. For all he knew cocking it too much could send all the bullets flying out of it, and not in a good way. So he left it as is.

Back pressed to the wall, Gordon rested his head back and stared up to the remarkably cloudless sky. All things considered, it was a lovely day to go on the run from an oppressive regime. He whirled around the corner, firing wildly as he ran for the entrance. His enemies above only paused for a moment before opening fire, the rain of bullets sending large globs of dark goo into the air around him. Charging around the corner, Gordon collided head on with the CP waiting there, knocking the CP on his back while Gordon somehow managed to stumble on and into the wall of the pipe.

The CP was on his feet in an instant, only to be greeted in the face by the blunt end of a crowbar. The force of the blow turned his upper body entirely around as he fell, ending up in an awkward twisted position on the floor. Gordon headed for the exit as he heard the now customary flat-line tone of the radio, followed by the robotic female voice.

He came out into an underground bunker of a room. Two semi-circular grates on the left let some light inside, but it was mostly impossible to see anything. The static of a radio echoed throughout the room, although Gordon struggled to make it out amidst the sound of traffic coming from outside. It was a female voice.

"_Station Twelve, come in." _No reply. Gordon saw a ladder at the far end of the room, light pouring in. He took a step forward, and immediately retracted the foot when he stepped on something less than floor-like. It was an arm. Crouching down, Gordon could suddenly make out the three dead bodies spread across the room.

"_Station Twelve, do you read?"_

Gordon somehow guessed that this was Station Twelve. Suddenly, the static was cut out, replaced by an frantic male voice.

"_This is Station Eight! We heard Twelve go down and out! Surgical strike units are targeting railway stations. Repeat, Civil Protection is coming down on underground stations! We're already getting refugees from Nine and outlying! Looks like we're-"_

Then nothing. His lips forming a thin line, Gordon closed his eyes for the dead for a few moments before pushing himself to his feet and heading for the ladder. He listened to the female citizen as he climbed up, cautiously remembering that there were three or so CP officers above.

"_Station Eight, do you copy? Station Eight, are you there? We have confirmed reports of Manhacks. Repeat, they're filling the underground with Manhacks!"_

He paused just as his head reached the exit. Manhacks? Well, _they _sounded lovely. He couldn't wait for his crowbar to meet them. Peeking up into the open air once again, Gordon squinted as his glasses happily amplified the sunlight. Something he could make out, however, was a gas canister beside him, a rather large flammable warning plastered on the side.

The CPs took that moment to notice him. Pointing his gun at the canister, Gordon fired, and released his grip on the ladder. He dropped as the explosion billowed outwards, only some of the heat managing to reach him. In a surprise move, several more explosion followed that one, starting a chain reaction that was sure to be heard and seen for miles. He may as well have climbed the Citadel and told them where he was.

When the ringing of his ears had subsided, Gordon could just barely make out an alarm echoing around the city. Believing himself to be one of those people who always knew when to leave, Gordon clambered up onto the platform above. Very little of the CPs was still there. The mounted machinegun, however, was more than intact; it was absolutely pristine. Not a scratch. Gordon ran two fingers across it with his crowbar hand, nodding. He was impressed.

A van screeched to a halt in the distance, and Gordon looked to the far side of the river. A bridge on an even higher level than the 'balcony' that he stood on overlooked him, holding a van completely bereft of markings. It certainly looked like it could do some damage if it collided with anything. Atop the vehicle, something Gordon could only describe as a cannon swivelled around to face him.

With a bang that echoed from across the emptied river, the cannon flashed, releasing a missile which seemed to swerve slowly in the air before rocketing down towards him. Gordon's eyes widened and he started moving. A pathway ran along the side of the river, leading to a wreckage-strewn passage underneath the bridge upon which the van was now perched. At first glance, that seemed to be the best option when faced with a missile heading for you. Gordon started running.

The first missile exploded against the mounted machinegun, tearing it to shreds. At least, Gordon assumed it was torn to shreds; he saw the barrel of the weapon whirl past him, smoking and falling apart as it fell into the goop below. The next three missiles nipped at his heels ever more insistently before the final one hit just behind him, knocking him from his feet and into the decidedly unhygienic passage beneath the bridge. Gordon put landed face first in the grey liquid, thankful that it was just dusty water and not some indescribably viscous green substance.

He had lost the gun in the blast, however. Adjusting his miraculously sturdy glasses, Gordon checked around for the weapon. It was simply too damn dark, and he was fairly sure he didn't have the time to feel around for it. Reaching for his belt, Gordon tapped the spot which would activate the flashlight. He noted with a weary frown that Dr Kleiner had neglected to move the position of the damn thing, so that if he ended up crawling through vents of any kind, he would be pretty damn stuck. And, being honest with himself, Gordon was pretty damn sure he was going to be crawling through some vents at _some _point today.

The flashlight didn't yield any more results, so, with a scowl down at his unassuming crowbar, Gordon continued forward, coming out at the other side of the bridge. Looking up, he noticed that there wasn't anybody checking for him on this side. They must have assumed he went up with the missile explosion. Still, discretion was probably the better part of valour at the moment, so he crept as slowly as he could to another tunnel opening on the left. A large, loose concrete tunnel was planted crossways beside the entrance.

"Over here!"

The loud voice from inside the pipe made him whirl around with his gun. If he had a gun, anyway. As it was, he whirled around and pointed his palm in the face of the small woman waiting inside for him.

Remarkably calm, she just blinked once before pushing his hand aside and smiling to him encouragingly. "Keep going, friend. That station was raided, but there's others up ahead."

"Oh." He looked to the tunnel ahead of him, and then back to her. "Thank you."

She nodded, smiling. "I'm going to stay here in case any others come through. Got to keep the railway alive."

Gordon's mouth opened, then closed again. "Right."

He guessed that sounded vaguely authoritative. Slipping through the tunnel beyond, Gordon found himself slowly entering a larger underground area, light seeping in from an exit in the top right hand corner of the room. A large pipe lay embedded in the ground, sunken in halfway so that only a stone semi-circle was visible. Atop it, a flat, long plank of wood balanced, the occasional breeze from outside making it bounce from one side to the other. Gordon dropped out of the tunnel and into the room, his wet boots crunching on the gravel floor.

On the right, a wall just taller than him prevented anyone from getting onto the level above and leaving the underground chamber. Adjusting his glasses, Gordon surveyed the area. Cinderblocks were littered around the makeshift see-saw. Nodding, he understood what needed to be done. Walking to the wall, he tossed his crowbar over first before latching onto the ledge and heaving himself over. As he got up he futilely dusted of the HEV suit, looking back to the rudimentary puzzle with disdain.

_Seesaw. Probably Barney's idea._

With two cricks of his neck, Gordon proceeded out into the sunlight beyond the tunnel in front of him, the white stone dazzling him as he approached. He was still in what used to be a canal, he was sure. The river would have flowed through the tunnel he was emerging from, out in front of him and then off to the left, where it looked like the ground slanted downwards, presumably to a larger main current. Random scraps of paper scuttled across the ground in the breeze, some dancing in circles before settling on the ground again. Then, with the droning roar of helicopter blades, the papers were sent flying into the air. A black helicopter dove down in front of him, the blue one way windows of the cockpit seeming like dead eyes as it whirled around to face him.

There was enough room between the helicopter and the wall. Gordon went for it, his feet pounding against the sun-dried stone. The helicopter's 'gaze' followed him as he went, swinging around to watch him run down the ramp of a canal and into what remained of the main river. The river now being green sludge, random lumps of concrete and metal girders acting as miniature, twisted islands.

A whirring noise echoed out from behind him, merging with the drone. Gordon vaulted over a sturdy looking collection of metal and rock, crouching down wait deep in the goop beneath him. The whirring stopped, the sudden relative silence punctured by a hail of high powered bullets, each one colliding loudly with Gordon's hiding place. Glancing up to the metal girder poking out above his head, Gordon saw the surface denting outwards as the bullets hit it. This was obviously not a helicopter he could take cover from for long.

The bombardment stopped relatively quickly, and Gordon started looking around an escape exit as the heavy thumping of the helicopter blades came closer. Deciding to risk it, Gordon stood up. Some steps on the far side of the river lead up to a stone walkway that would have run alongside the river in days long gone, leading to a door beneath the archway ahead. It was beside a filtering system anyway, so the thick metal bars would have stopped him from making any progress through the flow of the river.

A whirlwind of air suddenly upon him, Gordon saw the shadow of the helicopter looming above him and made a run for the stairs. The green sludge beneath him seemed to laugh in the face of traction, and Gordon had to make big, lumbering steps to make his way over, finally reaching them as the steady whirring of the helicopter's guns pierced the air.

Finally on solid ground again, Gordon sprinted for all he was worth. The helicopter moved with him as much as it could, lowering itself so it had a clear shot into the tunnel Gordon ran to.

The whirring stopped as Gordon reached the door and slammed it open with his shoulder, falling inside into the narrow tunnel beyond. A cloud of dust billowed in from outside, the high-powered bullets from his would be hunter hitting the wall where he had once been with resounding thunks.

Blinking away the dust that stung his eyes, Gordon scrounged his way to his feet, stumbling onward into the dank blackness ahead. The roar of the helicopter blades followed him as he made his way through the tunnels, his flashlight providing only a single circle of light ahead. His gaze travelling down to his right, Gordon found a white metal ladder, the light bouncing off the slick sheen that… _something_ had given it. He knew it was probably some slathering, alien beast that was waiting down below for him, but honestly, he was facing a big flying metal beast up here.

Either way, he had beasts to deal with. And as far as he was concerned, aliens would be a delightful and nostalgic change of pace. Letting the hooked end of the crowbar hang from his elbow, Gordon climbed down, going as quietly as he could as he heard the helicopter fade into the distance.

He reached the floor, and set foot on the surprisingly solid ground. It still made a slight squelch, however, and the brownish colour it sported didn't look particularly hygienic. Gordon decided to ignore it, instead focusing on the positives. For one, there was sufficient lighting down here to see where he was going. Two, there was no slathering alien beast. Three, he had his health. And four, he had his crowbar.

And, in the end, that was all Gordon needed to have a good day. Light, no aliens, health, and his crowbar.

"Why not?" he mumbled, cricking his neck and proceeding into the dimly lit tunnel, the light coming from a chain of barely active light bulbs above his head.

Finally reaching the end of the elongated, pale blue corridor, Gordon found himself in a small junction of sorts, the thick pipes welded to the wall taking him in the only direction available; left. Turning on his heel, Gordon came face to face with an entrance to what seemed a larger area, blocked by a hastily erected metal doorframe. Several planks of wood had been slapped across the middle, but Gordon was unsure as to who they were supposed to deter.

With a few swings and awkward pulls of his crowbar, Gordon had dealt with the lower planks, and crawled his way through.

"Get in here, hurry," a voice called, and Gordon looked up to see a dark-skinned citizen perched on a 'balcony' above him. Gordon wasn't sure what this room was for, but it was big enough to accommodate another floor being rather shabbily built above his head. The citizen dropped to the ground, landing with a dull splash as he hit the shallow stream of water beneath his feet.

"Civil Protection is onto us. We're tearing up the railroad, covering our tracks." He sighed, as though feeding that information to Gordon had taken too much of his energy. "Looks like you're going to be the last one through. Be glad you're not the guy they're looking for; poor bastard doesn't stand a chance."

Gordon simply offered an embarrassed 'yeah, what a moron' smile.

"Sounds like they're calling in every CP unit in City 17." Shaking his head, he turned to a metal door in the wall behind him, a small slit at eye level allowing a view into the room beyond. He spoke to Gordon over his shoulder as he opened the slit. "Now they're flooding the areas up ahead with Manhacks. You'd better get going before they sweep through here."

The question of Manhacks was on Gordon's lips when the citizen turned back to look through the door.

"Oh shit! Too late!"

With a start, he backed up and slammed the small viewport closed, scrambling towards Gordon as he fished a small pipe out of the water beneath his feet. A steady buzzing echoed from behind the door, muffled by the wooden layer.

Gordon chanced a quick look over at his new companion, who merely tightened his grip on the makeshift weapon in his visibly sweaty palms. The door exploded out towards, chunks of wood splintering out into the air. Red lights leading the way, three small, baseball-glove sized objects floated out, their continuous buzzing suddenly a lot more intimidating.

They looked like vicious little animals, rotating blades performing a double-act of keeping the devices aloft and providing some undoubtedly sharp blades to slice any opposition into pieces.

"Oh," Gordon said, nodding. "Manhacks." He looked over at his friend. "I get it."

He only managed one confused glance in Gordon's direction before the three whirring little monsters came at them. Naturally, two of them came at Gordon while his friend got to go mano-a-machine with the remainder.

Gordon ducked as the Manhacks sailed overhead. Springing back up to his feet, he swung the crowbar around in a one-handed swing, catching the latter Manhack in the back and sending it careening away. Smoke puffed out of out some unseen orifice on the device, the red light a now panicky yellow as it bleeped loudly, trying to steady itself.

Its' companion, undeterred by the act of violence, came at Gordon again, opening its' angry maw as it shot towards him. Doing his best impression of a baseball player, Gordon gripped the crowbar with both hands and swung it around, catching the Manhack as it approached and knocking it back to it's recovering neighbour. Upon collision, the latter Manhack burst apart in a flash; sparks toppling to the ground as shards of metal scuttled to the floor.

After taking a moment to gain it's bearings, the remaining Manhack seemed to take a moment to process that it had slain one of it's own before glaring angrily at Gordon with it's singular red eye. 'Claws' outstretched, it charged again, this time far quicker than before. Gordon barely managed to duck, let alone swing the crowbar. The blades sliced into his arm, and the HEV suit beeped in protest.

Gordon clenched his jaw. _Yes, I know it hurt, thank you._

The Manhack banked and soared around, coming at him for another attack just as fast as it had before. Gordon ignored the instinct to duck and concentrated on a downward swing. He missed, and the Manhack darted past his head, the blades cutting him just above his ear. With a loud grunt, Gordon brought his gloved hand to his head and turned around to face his now quite troublesome enemy.

Going well so far.

Once more, his miniscule enemy whirled around for another pass, and paused, waiting for the moment to strike. After a few moments, it backed up, about to charge. Gordon gripped the crowbar tighter.

It darted forward as a grey blur sliced through it, shattering it into a brilliant display of cascading sparks and flying metal.

Gordon blinked. _Did I do that?_

He followed the source of the blur, and saw his erstwhile companion. Who, Gordon was ashamed to admit, he had forgotten about. Gordon looked him up and down. The man had no HEV suit, no crowbar… and yet he didn't have a scratch on him.

The filled Gordon with hope for the human race and severely annoyed him at the same time. The HEV suit gently beeped, reminding him that it was applying its' magic to the wound in his head. Tentatively removing his hand, he tried not to think about the blood that covered the workman-like grey of the glove.

His friend, meanwhile, had since dropped his makeshift weapon to the floor.

"That was a close call. Thanks for your help!" he breathed, and Gordon could only nod silently, looking to the wreckage of the manhacks around him.

A heavy sigh from his new friend drew Gordon's attention upwards. "Look… it isn't safe here. I'd give you some supplies to keep you going, but I've barely got enough to keep me going."

Gordon nodded, bringing the crowbar up so it rested on his shoulder. Bringing his hand to the pain at the back of his head, Gordon was impressed to find that the bleeding had already been stopped by the miracle of science that was his HEV suit.

"Thank you."

His thanks were modestly waved away.

"Hey," he said cheerfully, "everyone's gotta have a job, huh?"

A small smile was all Gordon could offer him before heading for the now non-existent door and out into the corridor beyond. The pale blue extended ahead quite a distance before the corridor was enveloped in the now familiar darkness of these tunnels. Gordon got walking.

"Good luck out there!"

Gordon threw a wave of thanks over his shoulder before flicking on his flashlight, allowing to illuminate at least a large circle in front of him. The turned sharply in front of him, the 'V' shape of the tunnel so severe it almost looked as though he were doubling back on himself. Going around the corner, the now identifiable whine of Manhacks whimpered through the air. The corridor in front of him, inconveniently packed to the gills with crates.

Like a wave approaching him, Gordon could see the crates being demolished as the Manhacks tore their way towards him. Gordon readied himself, still feeling somewhat dizzy from the head wound still steadily knitting itself back together. There were two Manhacks, one much closer than the other. His eyes darted around the area, looking for anything he could use. He noticed an open fence door, jammed against the wall by a crate. Gordon kicked the offending box away and grabbed the door with one hand, keeping an eye on the first Manhack as it approached.

Still not in full speed killer mode, the Manhack floated steadily towards him, the red light at it's centre illuminating the blades spinning around it as it approached. It came within a few feet of Gordon, and he pulled the door shut, trapping the Manhack between the wall and the door. It made quick work of the metal framework, but not fast enough for Gordon to smash the crowbar down through it, yanking it down to the ground where the sharp end of the tool impaled it to the ground.

The second Manhack approached, and Gordon picked up its' fallen comrade. Holding it up in front of him, he used it to block the blades of his opponent. With a shower of sparks and a loud negative buzz, the Manhack stuttered back, smoke pluming from its' red eye. Gordon dropped the Manhack corpse and brought his crowbar to bear, swinging it across and straight through the damaged little bastard.

And once again, silence descended in the tunnel. Gordon looked down at the pieces of Manhack strewn about him, cricked his neck, and strode on towards the light at the end of the tunnel.

From there on out, Gordon frequently found himself getting lost, coming to the same familiar looking tunnel walls and feeling as though he should double back on himself. Occasionally he would end up outside, but the numerous gunshots and Manhacks being launched at his head convinced him that underground would be the best course of action. A hole in the ground full of water seemed to yield results, and after spending far too much time underwater, Gordon finally managed to surface in a tunnel he hadn't seen before.

Hefting himself out of the water, Gordon took the barest of moments to rest in a kneeling position before getting to his feet with a grunt and continuing through an archway on his right.

Inside, a corridor arched around from his left and across to his right. Both ends were blocked off, although the right-hand venue offered a ladder leading to some rather unsteady makeshift bridges above his head. Crowbar tucked under his arm, Gordon clambered up and put a wary foot on the first plank of wood. They looked like they had been built out of spare parts and left to balance by themselves. Looking to the walls of the corridor, Gordon could see that the planks were resting on small metal poles that had been jammed into the walls and the ceiling.

Still didn't make him feel any better.

Following the 'bridge' along at a snail's pace, Gordon found himself travelling across the blocked off wall at the left end of the corridor and into another on the other side. The ground was close enough that Gordon could (gratefully) let himself drop off the side. He landed with only the slightest thump on the gritty, sandy ground beneath. Another archway took him outside, and for what seemed the first time in days, Gordon heard his Geiger counter crackle to life.

The brownish green of the floor didn't bode well, but Gordon lowered himself down anyway, figuring himself at a certain lack of options. A wide tunnel ahead of him seemed to be intended for boats and the like, although it had since been drained to the point where only mud remained. Where the toxic waste bubbling away in large puddles around him came from, Gordon had no idea. Perhaps it was a way of stopping people leaving by boat.

Luckily, not all of the ground was radioactive, and Gordon managed to keep himself safe by keeping away from the puddles and staying on the yellow-y grass.

Machine-gun fire reverberated down the tunnel, and Gordon ducked his head, tucking himself behind a large pipe on his left that extended down from the ceiling, blocking his view of whoever was firing. A brief spurt of laughter made him relax somewhat.

"Yeah! You like that?"

Gordon poked his head out and saw a pale-skinned citizen with his back to him, firing at several slow moving targets as they wandered towards him. Hitting the final little creature, the citizen took that moment to reload, reaching into a metal green case beside him and pulling out a box for the ammunition he needed.

"Damned headcrabs…"

Ah. So they were officially called headcrabs now. Somehow he _knew _that was Barney's doing.

The citizen only then seemed to notice him. Eyes wider than Gordon through humanly possible, he launched himself to his feet.

"Hey! You're Freeman, aren't you? We got word you were coming." His fixed gaze wandered somewhat, as though ashamed to look Gordon in the eye. "You got here at a bad time."

His words were only slightly drowned out by the sudden crackle of a radio beside him, resting on a beaten up old metal table along with some first aid supplies. Running his gloved hand across it, Gordon was reminded of the cold metal of some of the tables at Black Mesa.

A familiar voice from the radio brought Gordon back to the present.

Alyx sounded more professional as she spoke, every word measured so as not to betray any emotion other than urgency. _"Black Mesa East to Station Six, do you read? Dr Freeman is on his way downriver."_

Black Mesa East? That was interesting.

The citizen nudged Gordon's arm and smiled, as though letting him in on the secret that Alyx was talking about him. Gordon just smiled back and returned his attention to the radio.

"_Lend him the airboat and give him all the help you can. Repeat, Gordon Freeman has returned, it is __**critical **__that he reaches Black Mesa East."_

And with that, the radio finished it's transmission, returning to grumbling static. Looking up at the citizen, Gordon found his new companion suddenly a little more sombre.

"You'd better get going now."

He nodded. "Thank you."

With the barest hint of a smile, the simply watched Gordon as he went past, moving on through the tunnel and towards the daylight he could see at the other side. As he approached, Gordon saw what resembled some kind of camp opening up before him, built imaginatively around the small puddles and streams of toxic waste. White metal walls and fencing formed an intricate maze designed to circumvent the hazards, taking whoever went through towards the left, away from the tunnel.

As he reached the mouth of the tunnel, two citizens, a man and a taller woman, came from around a wall on the far side of the encampment, hurtling themselves towards him.

"They're shelling us!"

As though to prove the point, a blackened missile shape crashed into the ground between them, sending both hurtling through the air with a resounding bang. While the man hit the wall at such speeds to kill him instantly, his female companion wasn't so lucky, managing to be thrown into a rather deep looking pool of toxic waste. By the time Gordon had reached her, her helpless thrashing had ceased and she was gone, consumed by the bubbling yellow mess.

Gordon closed his eyes out of respect before heading for the wall from which they had emerged. He was wary of the sizzling rocket as he passed it. With a metallic clang, the three prongs on the top opened outwards, revealing a circular 'tunnel' leading down into the base unit of the rocket. Crowbar gripped intently, Gordon watched as the silhouette of a headcrab scuttled out of the tunnel. With a quick jab, Gordon hit it right between the eyes. If headcrabs had eyes, that is.

Two more headcrabs clambered up and were similarly dispatched. After waiting for any more, Gordon turned and headed into the camp, satisfied.

A zombie creature awaited him on the other side, incoherent moans accompanying every limping step as it lumbered towards him. Massive hands outstretched, it brought its' arms up before swinging them down in a mighty arc towards his head. Gordon slipped to the side and swung the crowbar up and around, embedding the pointed end in the head and knocking the zombie off-balance from the power of the blow. It stumbled slightly to the side, and Gordon followed it up with another large baseball swing. The monster whirled around on the spot before slumping to the floor.

Gordon hoped to God that whatever person underneath was dead.

Headcrab missiles rained down on him sporadically as he negotiated his way through the camp, and most of them were easily avoided or killed. Gordon found himself besides the opening to a large tunnel on his left. On the right, a lake of toxic waste spread out as though it were water, continuing around and onward past the large building in front of him. It looked like his theory for why the water was toxic wasn't far off. Edging his way around the rather thin deck that took him into the tunnel, Gordon found himself walking around the tunnel and to the right.

At the end of the tunnel, a closed gate blocking the bubbling river beside him signalled that not all was quite right with this area. Walking past it, Gordon stopped when he saw the female citizen kneeling on the deck at the far end of the 'room', pouring a tank of gasoline into some floating monstrosity in front of her. A plastic chair - looking like it would be more at home in a go-kart - sat comfortable in the centre of the mess of brown metal poles, linking it to two white floats flanking it on either side. An obscenely big fan was attached behind the chair, looking like it could make on hell of a noise. Motorcycle handles seemed to provide the steering for the vehicle (if one could _call _it a vehicle), with a small dial between them on the bar.

Noticing his presence, the woman placed down the tank in her hands and got to her feet, wiping some sweat from her grimy forehead.

"Hey, Dr Freeman. I've been hoping you'd show up. Got this airboat all gassed up and ready to go." She gestured to the vehicle in question, and Gordon felt compelled to just shake his head and walk away. Instead, through no choice of his own, he found himself wandering over to the airboat and clambering in, slotting the crowbar into a convenient hole beneath the chair.

The woman smiled. "Thought you'd like that. I figured if Gordon Freeman was going to be using this thing, he'd want somewhere to put his crowbar."

Gordon smiled politely and nodded, not really listening. He was more intent on inspecting the controls in front of him. At least, what little controls there were. All he had were some handles and a dial in the middle. He didn't even know how to turn the damn thing on.

"It's going to be tough dodging Civil Protection out there in the open, but drive hard and you'll make it. You'll find more help up at Station Seven, just a few bends up the river. It's the old red barn."

She reached over and turned some keys that, naturally, were hiding in plain sight beside Gordon's right knee. He frowned as he felt the boat thrum to life. How the hell had he missed them?

"You'd better get going now."

Gordon cocked an eyebrow, looking up at her. "What about-"

"I've gotta stay here," she said, scratching the back of her mousy hair. "There could always be more runaways coming along. Seriously, just… get going. You're the most important thing we've got right now."

The idea of being important didn't really appeal to Gordon, but the steady roar of the fan behind him prevented him from bringing forth any arguments to get her to change her mind. With the press of a button, she brought the gate up with a mighty creak.

She mouthed 'good luck', and jabbed her thumb up in the air.

Gordon mouthed 'thank you' back as the airboat forced itself forward, having finally built up enough momentum to do so. With a worrying state of acceleration, the airboat took Gordon out of the tunnel and into the open air. A part of him wanted to glance back to the encampment as he roared past, but the speed at which he was racing along the surface of the lake didn't give him much of a chance to do anything except cling on for dear life.

A haze of green drifted over him, and Gordon wondered if he should hold his breath. However, the suit didn't seem to object and his glasses didn't even acknowledge the green stuff's presence, so Gordon just kept on going. As he emerged from the cloud, Gordon found himself heading towards a gate in a huge white wall, only _just _raised high enough to allow him access beneath it. The damn thing looked like it could fall down at any minute. Gordon could just barely see into the tunnel beyond, but could at least see that it led somewhere.

As it was now, he had nowhere else to go except around in circles.

The boat's already deafening roar became completely unbearable as he entered the tunnel, the airboat easily demolishing all the floating obstacles as he flew along. Circumventing the curves of the tunnel steadily became easier as he rode along. He smiled.

Gordon Freeman, on his way to Black Mesa East. Almost like Gordon Freeman on his way to the Lambda Complex.

Except this time he knew what kind of crap he would have to deal with to get there.

And… oh, yes. He could kick a lot more ass.

--

(A/N: Props to Ghost Rider1 for some of the dialogue between Gordon and Larry the Vortigaunt. Hope you don't mind, buddy.

Anyway, this story's going to be taking a pause for a bit in order for another _Half-Life _story to unfold. It's a joint project between me and BlindAcquiescence (of 'Shephard's Epic fame), so hopefully you guys will be interested in that.

Anyway, review!)


	4. Water Hazard

Disclaimer: I don't own _Half-Life._

_**Welcome to City 17**_

_**Chapter Four: Water Hazard**_

A blaze of sunlight made Gordon squint as the airboat launched itself from the tunnel, skipping across the water like a stone until he managed to reign in the damn thing and turn it around. Travelling along the wide, sparse water (Gordon noted with some relief that the toxic sludge he had been travelling over seemed to have dispersed) gave him a chance to practice controlling the vehicle. He liked to think that he wouldn't need the skills he was now learning to use, but somehow he doubted fate would leave him alone for too long without dropping some huge-helicopter/monster-from-hell/persistent-little-soldier-bastard on him and ruining his trip.

After repeating some complicated manoeuvres (or at least, they _felt _complicated when he was doing them), Gordon yanked the handlebars off to the left and continued on down the river, following it around the corner going to the right. The ground on either side of him rose and fell quickly as he sped along, and he found himself only occasionally having to tug the airboat one way or the other around the river's curves.

He eventually emerged in a wide expanse of water, the water level appearing somewhat deeper than it had before. In front of him, on the other side of the water, Gordon made out the red barn his previous contact had told him about, and he made a beeline for it. As he approached the stone shelf that acted as a port, Gordon realised that he didn't know how to stop the airboat.

As he fumbled about for the keys, Gordon's eyes drifted up to the red barn above him. And looking down from the entrance of the barn…

Him. Him _again_. Looking down on him with the neatly pressed suit and infuriating smile.

Gordon hadn't seen him since he had arrived. And since no-one else seemed to realise that Gordon had no clue what was going on, it looked like He was going to have the only answers. The airboat powered down with a low chug as Gordon viciously twisted the keys. It's momentum took him slowly floating towards the grey stone platform, and he impatiently stepped off before it had even made contact.

A rusted metal ladder took him up a level to some stairs. Rushing up them with crowbar in hand, Gordon found no sign of Him on the balcony. The vast open space leading into the barn on his right seemed to indicate a possible escape for his would-be employer, and Gordon rushed inside.

And instantly rushed out again after being confronted by two zombies.

The crackling radio from across the other side of the barn spoke urgently as Gordon tucked himself around the corner, out of sight from the lumbering beasts.

"_Station Seven, do you read? Repeat, Station Seven, do you read?"_

Well, that explained what happened to Station Seven, judging by the hole in the ceiling and the opened missile lodged in the planking Gordon had spotted in his brief foray inside. And, as he half expected, He had vanished like so much dust in the wind. Not wishing to annoy the creatures slowly approaching him any more than he needed to, Gordon rushed down the stairs and decided to forgo the ladder by leaping down to the platform.

Awkwardly rushing into the plastic seat of the airboat, Gordon wedged the crowbar beneath the chair, turned the keys, and steered the vehicle away from the barn. Although he had no idea where he was heading, Gordon decided that sticking with the most obvious routes was probably a safe bet. Well, probably not safe for his _health_, but it would probably take him to Black Mesa East.

Whatever that was.

The wide river took him around to an obviously man-made ramp mechanism underneath a bridge to take him up and into the white stone bordered canals beyond. It probably wouldn't have even been an issue when the river was at a normal depth, but since the Combine had done _something _to drain the water, it made every change in venue an incredible pain in the rear.

Luckily, the airboat was fast enough to propel him up and over the white wall and into the canals beyond. A bleak, low hum thrummed over his head, easily outdoing the fan behind him. It belonged to a huge white creature, similar to the glistening white helicopter-esque creatures he had spotted upon his first tour around the city. This one, however, seemed built for heavy lifting, as it carried a thick black container beneath it's flat belly, roughly the size of the vans he had seen CPs pouring out of back in City 17.

The creature landed, and his suspicions were confirmed as he rocketed towards it, the front of the container collapsing open and revealing five Civil Protection Officers. Gordon ducked his head as they opened fire. Their handguns were barely audible over the combined din of the airboat and the troop carrier creature, the latter of which was taking off again, disinterested in combat.

Gordon slammed the airboat through the officers with ease, their pained grunts fading into the distance as they tumbled and bounced off the metal frame of the vehicle. Swerving around a corner, Gordon saw three more CPs abseiling down the wall of the canal in front of him. With a smile far more evil than he would have thought possible two days ago, Gordon rocketed towards the wall, letting the airboat run across it and run down the officers before they had even touched the ground.

His eyes were adjusting to the whiteness of the walls as he turned the next corner, this one bringing with it further complications. In front of him, a large platform had been erected out of the building coming up on his right, at least a few stories up and looking quite hastily put together. Atop it, a single CP stood firing on him, his machine gun crackling through the air. Gordon could see the bullets splashing up against the water in front of him, making a path towards his airboat.

Using some of those manoeuvres he had been practising before, Gordon managed to stay out of the line of fire until he reached the platform, where he ungraciously ploughed through the thin wooden supports, demolishing them. The whine of the CP's radio confirmed his crash landing, and Gordon proceeded around the corner. He quickly cut the power from the airboat when he saw what was up ahead.

The gates in front of him were closed. Judging by the size of them, they were intended to stop boats far larger than the comparative scooter he was riding around in now. There was no way he was going to be jumping over that baby. He decided that there would be some kind of release switch for gates that large. Leaving the keys in the ignition in case he wanted to make a quick getaway (and, frankly, because the HEV suit _still _lacked pockets, thank you Dr Kleiner), Gordon stepped onto the platform beside him, yanking the crowbar out from underneath the airboat chair and heading around the corner.

A ladder took him up to a stone walkway that ran along the outside of the building and to where the serious health risk of a wooden platform had been built from. Gordon spotted the lifeless body of the CP in the water and tried to remove the image from his mind as he went through a lime green door in front of him.

The room beyond was dark, the only light provided by a large computer terminal on the wall on his right. Ahead of him, two misted windows provided a look into the garage area beyond. Empty shelves on small black wheels were spread out around him, some overturned while others held the smallest of cardboard boxes. He couldn't spot anybody in the large garage beyond, but still kept his head down as he rushed to the next door beside the large windows. Slowly wrapping his fingers around the handle, he pulled it down with the slightest of creaks and nudged the door open.

"_We now have direct confirmation of a disruptor in our midst."_

Gordon leapt back, whirling around with his crowbar to hit whoever the hell was behind him. Instead, his crowbar sailed through empty air, the momentum of the swing sending him toppling onto his back. The loud, echoing voice continued on regardless.

"_One who has acquired an almost…"_ The voice paused before uttering the next word with disgust,_ "…messianic reputation in the minds of certain citizens." _

The ever-so-slightly distorted image of Dr Breen's head stared at him from the computer terminal on the wall on the other side of the room.Gordon heaved himself to his feet as he started to listen to what his former administrator was saying.

"_His figure is synonymous with some of the darkest urges of instinct, ignorance and decay. Some of the **worst **excesses of the Black Mesa Incident have been laid **directly** at his feet."_

Gordon frowned. What did _he _do? He was under the impression that he had saved the world. The sheer magnitude of that statement made Gordon a little dizzy, so he tried not to think about it as he checked the windows for any approaching enemies.

"_And yet, unsophisticated minds continue to imbue him with romantic power."_

Well… _romantic _wasn't really the label Gordon would give himself.

"_Giving him such dangerous poetic labels as 'The One Free Man' and 'The Opener of the Way'."_

'One Free Man'. Clever. 'Opener of the Way' didn't make much sense, though. But he could live with it.Although having any kind of label was a bit disconcerting, poetic or otherwise.

"_Let me remind all citizens of the dangers of magical thinking. We have scarcely begun to climb from the dark pit of our species' evolution."_

At that point, Gordon stopped listening intently and was content to let the words float over him as he snuck into the garage beyond. At any point during the speech prior to those words, Gordon _might _have been worried that Breen's speech would have effect on him or other citizens. But as soon as he started talking about dark pits of evolution…

Gordon always prided himself on knowing when to shut up. Breen never did.

The garage was indeed empty. One of the armoured vans was parked in the right-hand corner. Gordon slid around to the other side of the garage, dropping to his hands and knees as he ducked beneath some more windows. Peeking over the ledge, he found another room similar the one he had just left. Except this darkened room led to another on the far side. He could see two CP officers inside through identically large windows, both staring off to the right.

"_Let us not slide backward into oblivion just as we have finally begun to see the light," _Breen pleaded, his voice easily echoing out into the garage.

With slow, gentle movements, Gordon slipped through into the darkened room, going into a full on belly crawl as he traversed the barely occupied room.

"_If you see this so-called 'Free Man', report him."_

Upon reaching the other door, Gordon got up into a squatting position. Hand wrapped around the door handle, he slowly pushed it down an urged the door open. Both CPswere watching the same Breen transmission on a monitor on the far side of the pale blue room. One was almost directly in front of Gordon, the other a few steps ahead. Beside the large monitor, some white metal stairs led to another door. Since there were no obvious gate controls in here, Gordon assumed the switch was somewhere through there.

"_Civic deeds do not go unrewarded."_

Gordon stood up and grabbed the CP closest to him by the shoulder, turning him around. Expecting someone else, the CP limply looked around as though annoyed. Gordon smashed the hook of the crowbar through the ghoulish white mask, sending him tumbling to the ground with a trail of blood flying behind him.

"_And contrary-wise, complicity with his cause will not go unpunished."_

The second CP turned around as the first hit the ground, and, without time to even reach for his baton, settled for swinging a gloved fist at Gordon's head. He ducked and swiped the crowbar through the CP's legs, knocking him on his back. With a vicious downward strike of the crowbar, Gordon knocked him unconscious as well.

"_Be wise."_

Gordon took a single step forward when something solid slammed into his back, sending him face first into one of the large, misted windows. Instead of shattering, however, the glass merely frayed. In the reflection of the window, Gordon saw another CP behind him. He must have been behind the door.

"_Be safe."_

A hand grabbed him roughly by the back of the head, bringing it back to slam into the broken glass in front of him. Gordon stabbed the pointed end of the crowbar into the CP's belly. With a loud grunt, he stumbled back. Gordon whirled around with the crowbar, the blow sending him down to the ground to join his comrades.

"_Be aware." _

And with those final words, Breen's transmission ended.

"Edit your speeches," Gordon muttered. Beneath the now blank screen, he found something far more interesting; a crate full of - judging by the label - grenades. Gordon hadn't seen grenades for… well, for a few hours, back in Nihilanth's chamber. He still felt suitably nostalgic, however, as he opened up the crate and looked inside. The grenades were not the round, fist sized weapons he had become accustomed to, however. These were roughly the size of a tall can of beer, with a ring on the top and a (deactivated) red light beside it.

He picked up one regardless, as well as nabbing the handgun of one of the fallen CP officers. Within a few moments he was opening the door and stepping through into the open air beyond, crowbar tucked under his arm.

And within one more moment, he was back inside, leaping to the ground as several high powered bullets ripped their way through the wooden green door. Gordon picked himself up and tucked himself around the corner from the now halfway transparent door. Outside, he had found a tall fence on his left overlooking the canal on which his airboat was now parked as well as the tall, closed gates. In front of him, a trailer (seemingly without any mode of transportation to pull it) was halfway between him and another building on the far side of the area. Just to the right of the only door into said building, a clever little CP had set up a mounted machinegun.

Gordon sighed. He preferred it when he was clever and all of his enemies were stupid. Although he'd like to see any CPs write a thesis entitled _'_Observation of Einstein-Podolsky-Rosen Entanglement on Supraquantum Structures by Induction Through Nonlinear Transuranic Crystal of Extremely Long Wavelength (ELW) Pulse from Mode-Locked Source Array'.

_Then_ Gordon would be impressed.

Gripping the grenade in one hand and his handgun in the other, Gordon ran through the pathetic remains of the door, making a mad leap for the ground behind the abandoned red trailer. It looked like something a farmer would use to transport his prized pig from one contest to another. As it was, all it held were some very boring looking wooden crates. The CP continued his endless barrage, probably figuring that Gordon would have to come out some time.

Well, he was _half_ right.

Gordon got to his feet and started pushing the trailer forward. At first, it didn't want to budge, but eventually, as his HEV boots got some traction on the concrete, it started to move. It gained some speed as he kept on pushing, the steady thunk of the machinegun bullets getting louder as he approached the CP.

Having reached the halfway point, Gordon pulled the ring on the grenade and tossed it in the direction of the troublesome CP. He immediately dropped to the floor, handgun at the ready. A muttered curse was his only indication that the CP had spotted the grenade, and he risked a quick peek out into the open, pistol at the ready. The CP was vaulting over the metal barrier on which the machinegun rested as the grenade exploded, knocking him mid-leap and a few extra feet forward. Before he could even hobble to his knees, Gordon emptied the weapon into him, which turned out to only hold three bullets. But it was enough when all of them were aimed for his head.

Shaking his head, Gordon got to his feet, tossing the handgun to the floor and pulling out his trusty crowbar before continuing for the door at a slightly increased pace.

For what seemed the hundredth time that day, Gordon found himself going through a door, only to throw himself out of it a few moments later. Three CPs were waiting for him inside the small yet tall room. Two generators tucked into the right-hand side of the room didn't leave much room for any hidden officers, so the three that had been pointing weapons up at him had probably been all he had to contend with. The slippery metal of the stairs he had found himself on didn't lend themselves to speedy escapes, and Gordon quickly found himself stumbling back through the door.

Turning back to the other building to fetch some guns, Gordon halted in his tracks when he saw a veritable squadron of CPs pouring out of the building opposite, one of the troop transport creatures already flying off into the distance.

Gordon took a note not to concentrate on throwing grenades so much that he didn't check behind him once in a while. Ducking down behind the mounted machinegun, Gordon took aim and started mowing them down. They scattered, some taking cover behind a large metal skip on the left while others made a run for the trailer Gordon himself had hidden behind before.

The door beside him opened, and Gordon looked over at the CP pointing his sub-machinegun at him. Gordon swung up his crowbar first, hitting the officer's wrist and sending the weapon out into the air. The CP latched onto the crowbar, and Gordon took a few steps back as his enemy pushed forward against him. Gritting his teeth, Gordon swung the CP around with all his might, driving his legs into the waist high metal barrier and sending him tumbling over.

One enemy down for at least a few moments, Gordon got to firing again, taking out a few more CPs before a dark sleeved arm wrapped around his neck, pulling him up and back towards the wall. Gordon flailed uselessly as he tried to hit his unseen enemy. The CP he had tossed over the machinegun barrier was getting back up, and Gordon could see several of the CPs slowly emerging from their cover.

Gordon kicked the machinegun, sending it whirling around on it's axis and colliding with the back of the recovering officer's head. He ended up unconscious in an awkward sitting position, his head between his legs. Still using his legs, Gordon tilted the muzzle of the machinegun down, and used his other foot to slam down on the trigger mechanism in the wide handles on the back.

With a loud bark of gunfire, the machinegun sent a hail of bullets into the CP's feet behind him. Gordon was instantly released as the CP screamed in pain. The quick swing of the crowbar was as much out of mercy as it was expediency.

Something landed between Gordon's feet before he could even think about getting back behind the machinegun. Then another.

Then another.

Looking down, Gordon suddenly found himself surrounded by at least half a dozen grenades.

Without pause, Gordon whirled around and hurtled through the door behind him, coming face to face with the third and final CP from inside. Grabbing him by the arm, the CP tossed him around until he lost his footing on the stairs and tumbled down, rolling awkwardly as he fell. He finally reached the ground, and looked up to see the CP pulling out his handgun to finish the job.

The door beside him exploded inward, smashing him into the guardrail of the stairs, the door itself shattering in half as it hit.

Gordon allowed himself the faintest of smiles before he stumbled to his feet, heading for the other stairway he had just spotted on the other side of the room. As he passed the spot below the top of the stairs, he spotted the handgun the now crushed CP had been wielding. He scooped it up before pounding up the metal stairs, all too aware of how quickly Civil Protection was going to catch up with him. He slammed the door behind him as he stepped through, throwing his back against it in a vain attempt to barricade it from any new arrivals.

The switch to open the gate was broken, the panel scorched and the switch itself melted beyond repair. A scowl steadily knotted Gordon's brow as he looked around for another way out. Looking through the fencing that overlooked the river below, Gordon suddenly found it on the far right. A steel girder attached to two chains that led to another girder above it. They was a lot of slack between the two girders, but the chains were wrapped tight.

The first girder was held in place by a thick clamp attached to the fence on his right. Below the clamp, several red-orange barrels with an ominous flame symbol on the front waited patiently. Looking from the girder to the gate that was now on his left, Gordon smiled. It was an emergency system. He didn't know if it existed before the Combine, or if it was an addition made by the Resistance, but right now, Gordon didn't care.

Making his way to the fence, Gordon quickly clambered over and managed to secure himself on the ledge beneath him before making his way onto the girder itself. Glad for the thickness of the girder, Gordon made his way across to the chain on the far side - he had no desire to be near those barrels when they blew.

The door flew open, and several CP officers emerged. Gordon took aim at the barrels, and fired three shots. One barrel exploded, slightly dislodging the clamp and setting the other two barrels ablaze. Looking amazingly panicked for someone wearing an expressionless mask, the CP who seemed to be in charge signalled for everyone to get back before shooting Gordon a hateful look. How Gordon _knew _it was hateful, he wasn't sure, but it there was definitely no love lost between the CP and him.

He was knocked from his thoughts by the last of the barrels exploding, completely obliterating the wooden clamp and sending the now free girder hurtling down towards the gate. Gordon waited only a few moments before dropping his handgun and kicking off backwards, holding onto his glasses with his free hand as he fell.

The cold water rushed in around him just as the girder smashed through the gate, reducing it to scrap. With a few kicks of his legs, Gordon burst from the water, enjoying his handiwork for just a moment before starting a rather vigorous swim through the wreckage of the gate and to his airboat.

His would-be pursuers fired on him from their cramped position on the balcony level behind him, but by the time any of them had adjusted themselves well enough to get any kind of decent aim, Gordon was in the airboat and starting the fan. With an ever increasing roar, his vehicle came to life and thrust him out of the corridor and out into the open air again. Gordon could practically taste the flavour of freedom.

It tasted good.

Gordon ached to take a break, to rest for at least a few moments. For as relaxing as jumping from falling girders and blowing up evil police officers was, he wanted very much to lie down on something. Preferably soft.

After what he was sure was ten minutes of driving, Gordon resolved to take a break after the next corner.

As soon as he rounded said corner, he found himself looking at a large docking complex, shipping containers piled up all around in stacks of two and three. A canal directly in front of him and on the left of the complex seemed to be the way forward, but a sudden, piercing alarm put an end to that idea, the gates closing with irritating finality.

As if to put the final layer of icing on Gordon's cake of crap, a lone CP appeared from nowhere to stand on the corner of the wall beside the canal and open fire on him, the rapid fire bullets kicking up a trail of splashes that seemed to head straight for him. Looking to the right, Gordon saw a wooden platform that rested below another above it. He headed towards it, his control of the airboat improving to the point where he got it to stop by the time he reached the platform.

Gordon stepped off and onto the rickety planks that made up a floor. Feeling somewhat unsafe, Gordon stepped forward onto the concrete and through the green door in front of him. The alarm continued to chime out as he made his way through the basement area, seeming to stop just as reached a wide metal table sat midway in the room before a door. Atop the table, as though waiting for him, a somewhat grimy silver revolver looked up at him, a small yellow box sitting beside it. The words _.357 Magnum_ were plastered over it in slanted black font, as well as a picture of bullets.

_That would be a box of bullets, then._

He picked up the weapon just as the door in front of him was flung open, revealing a narrow corridor beyond with two CP officers inside. Gordon fired the gun, the force of the blast knocking his hand back past his face. He blinked in shock and decided to crouch down. This gun would need two hands to operate. Waiting a few moments, no gunfire was forthcoming, so Gordon peeked his head over the top. Both CP officers lay inert on the ground. Wary of some kind of trick, Gordon snuck over cautiously, his two handed grip on the weapon tightening as he approached them.

The deep red bullet holes in their heads seemed to indicate that they were indeed dead. Gordon looked down at the revolver. It had just ploughed through two CPs in one shot. He liked this gun.

Gordon tried to whirl it around his finger. He almost dropped it, having to hastily juggle it a few times before he finally got a firm grip. He nodded to himself.

_Cowboy moves not a good idea. Noted._

After reloading the gun, Gordon continued on through the corridor. At the next corner it brought him out into the daylight, the fence in front of him looking out to the large lake of water he had just been riding across. Continuing, Gordon came to a stone stairwell leading up to the level where all of the containers were stacked. A CP with his back to Gordon barely had a chance to turn before Gordon blasted him.

As he rushed up the stairs, a low thrumming noise whipped through the air above him. Looking up, Gordon was greeted by the sudden windy entrance of one of the same black helicopters that had stalked him through the canals of City 17. It banked in the air, turned around, and seemed to focus on him.

The same familiar, growing whine filled the air, and Gordon knew what was coming. He looked for somewhere to go, and, finding only closed containers, decided that they would do. The first bullets managed to hit him in the shoulder, turning him in mid-run and sending him tumbling to the ground. However, he still managed to crawl around and put a stack of two containers between them, the metal boxes taking the lion's share of the punishment.

His HEV suit pinged helpfully, dropping the hint that he had been injured.

Having not realised what the cause of the searing pain in his back was, Gordon was grateful. Using the container as leverage, Gordon managed to shimmy his way up to a standing position. The helicopter came around so that it could see him.

After a quick glare that he hoped would make the helicopter spontaneously combust, Gordon started running, darting around the containers and keeping them between the helicopter's bullets and him. The occasional Combine officer wandered into his path, but either the crowbar or the revolver took quick care of them.

Eventually, Gordon caught a glimpse of a warehouse on his left, and manoeuvred his way around the container blocking the entrance. Four containers took up the middle of the warehouse area, lined up diagonally with each other to make a sort of twisted Tetris style shape. As the helicopter came around for another try, Gordon darted away from the large entrance of the warehouse, pressing his back to the concrete wall. He took a breath, resting his head back and looking up.

A CP looked back down at him through the metal latticework section of the walkway above him. With a yelp bordering on girly, Gordon quickly removed himself from the line of fire, getting underneath the rest of the walkway. Oddly enough, the rest of it was made of wood, and was supported with wooden struts.

Judging from the amount of footsteps and distorted radio voices from above him, the lion's share of the Combine forces were there. Looking across the warehouse, Gordon spotted another walkway that mirrored the one he now hid under. Only two CP officers were manning it, and Gordon took that as a good thing. Running to the far left of the walkway above him, Gordon gripped his two weapons tight as he hopped up and down on the ground, preparing himself.

Gordon launched into a full on sprint, heading for the stairway leading up to the opposite walkway. The gunfire that rang out didn't even compare to the amount of bullets that actually made contact. How he managed to keep on running, Gordon had no idea. He practically fell onto the stairs, and was extremely grateful for how much distance the width of the warehouse had put between him and his would-be killers.

The two CPs on the walkway ahead of him, on the other hand…

The first tried to fire his weapon, but Gordon just sidestepped before he had even brought the weapon to bear and struck him down with the crowbar. The second one grabbed onto his eponymous weapon, and Gordon fired the revolver into his belly before tossing him onto the ground below.

A knee-high wooden 'guardrail' of sorts ran along the walkway, and Gordon took that moment to graciously drop to the floor, letting his body clang ungraciously against the thin metal. Gordon waited as the morphine from the HEV suit did it's work. Although running low on power, the suit still managed to alleviate some of the pain, at least enough to allow him to think straight.

Gordon looked to the fallen CP that he hadn't let drop onto the lower level. Hooked to his belt were several grenades. Using the crowbar, Gordon tore the belt off. He pulled the ring from one of the grenades and launched himself to his feet, putting his hand up to block the bullets aiming for his head. Swinging his arm around in a circle a few times, Gordon released the belt of grenades, hoping they would land somewhere near the wooden walkway. He ducked back down, scooping up his crowbar and revolver.

When the grenades exploded, the sound of splintering wood and screaming CPs seemed to confirm that Gordon had hit the correct spot. Emerging from his hiding place, Gordon saw that the middle section of the walkway had been completely obliterated, the explosion having spread a cloud of smoke and dust into the air and over the four containers that made a makeshift bridge from one side of the warehouse to the other.

Gordon started playing stepping stones and made his way across.

Angry footsteps coming from within the smoke gave him pause, and he readied himself. Two officers emerged from the quickly dissipating mist, the first quickly disposed of by a point blank shot to the face. The second made a swing for Gordon with his baton, who parried the blow with his crowbar, rotating it away from him. With a quick jab of his leg, Gordon hit the CP right between the legs, the masked enforcer doubling over almost instantly. Only the gentlest of shoves sent the CP collapsing through a gap between the containers, wedging him in-between.

The angry thumping of the helicopter outside spurred Gordon on, and he hopped from one container to the other until he was in the corridor leading into the bowels of the warehouse. Large windows lit the bare, brown room magnificently, and made the looming shadow of the Combine helicopter all the more intimidating. Gordon increased his pace as the bullets blasted through the window, sending large shards of glass exploding out behind him as he ran.

A veritable wall of crates blocked the entrance into the next room, and Gordon unceremoniously leapt straight through them, bursting out at the top of a stairway on his right. A CP at the bottom of the stairs turned around in alarm and started un-holstering his pistol. Gordon reached behind him and tossed one of the larger - yet pleasingly lighter - crates down the stairs and at his opponent. It had the desired effect, distracting him just long enough for Gordon to take aim with the revolver. One squeeze of the trigger was all it took to send the CP tumbling back down the stairs.

Gordon quickly followed suit, the thundering noise his feet made on the metal steps miniscule compared to the helicopter outside. A Combine energy outlet was on the wall in front of him, lit by the open entrance out into the sunlight just beside it. Glancing a few times to the sky outside, Gordon made a dash for the machine, thrusting the relevant elbow into the glowing port. With a grateful electronic hum, the HEV suit did it's work.

It then promptly stopped, simply making a negative beep every time he attempted to restart the process. He looked the charger up and down. The status indicator seemed to be working. Gordon checked his elbow. A large gash from something or other had been sliced through it. From where, Gordon had no idea. But it seemed to be interfering with the recharging process.

And considering how low his power was and that there was a helicopter with a mounted minigun waiting for him outside, Gordon was obviously over the moon.

His back to the wall beside the doorway, Gordon poked his head outside. Another red container sat sternly in front of him. No sign of the helicopter above, although he could sure as hell hear it. Looking above the container, Gordon could see what looked like a control tower prodding the sky. Hopefully that meant some kind of gate release switch. He didn't feel like riding girders for every locked gate he came across.

With only the slightest of glances back up to the sky, Gordon wiped his sweat soaked brow and dashed outside, slamming far too hard into the container before shimmying along it. Gordon slipped around it and came to another container. On the right, Gordon could see the pathway that would take him to the control tower, which was closer than he had thought. A single CP stood at the bottom of the tower, guarding the ladder that led inside.

The sleek black form of the helicopter swooped into view, taking account of him for the first time since he had been inside.

Gordon let his head hang. "Oh… come on…"

With a deep breath, he brought his gaze back up to the still unaware CP. He was breathing heavier now; the HEV suit was close to dying on him. Gordon took a large breath, straightened his glasses, and charged out into the open, revolver pointed straight at the CP.

His enemy took that moment to turn around, levelling his submachine gun as he panicked at Gordon's charge. The first barrage of bullets hit his legs, and Gordon stumbled forward as he fired off a single shot from the revolver, hitting the CP in the shoulder. The force of the impact sent the man reeling backwards, almost turning him around. Gordon tried to fire again, and found the chamber empty. Gritting his teeth, he turned the weapon around so the not insubstantial butt of the gun was acting as a second melee weapon. The CP turned around and got it right between the eyes, falling onto his back.

The helicopter's gun whined as it prepared to fire. Gordon smiled as he reached the ladder, finding it enclosed in a sort of enclave that took him up to the control room. He tossed the useless revolver down to the ground. The rapid fire bullets from the helicopter impacted uselessly against the concrete as he made his way up.

As Gordon reached the final rung and prepared to vault up and surprise his enemy, he heard a familiar tinkling as something hit the floor. Looking up, Gordon could only watch as a grenade rolled over the edge and down towards him. Reaching out with his crowbar, Gordon managed to catch the explosive cylinder in the hook of the tool. With a smile bordering on insanity at how lucky he was, Gordon swung it back into the control room and let go of the ladder.

There was a silence for a few moments, before a muttered 'shit' was quickly drowned out by the resounding bang of the grenade. Gordon clambered back up, his face wrinkling in disgust as the burning flesh hit his nostrils. He stepped gingerly around the bodies as he went to the control panel on the other side of the incredibly small room. Two buttons were staring him in the face on the wall, one pressed, the other not. A red light shone defiantly between them. Gordon slammed his palm down on the depressed button, and watched with smug satisfaction as the light turned green, and the gates opened with an echoing groan.

Gordon darted to the ladder and slid down. Looking to his left, he saw the same platform the irritating CP had been firing from earlier. It was probably the same guy whose face he had just smashed in.

Obviously, the gate's grand opening had not gone unnoticed by the helicopter, which was banking around for another shot at 'The Opener of the Way'.

He glanced at the opening gates. Huh. That was actually starting to make sense now.

Gordon made long, splashy strides towards his airboat as the helicopter came around, lowering itself almost into the water as it took aim. He was roaring away in the airboat as the helicopter's gun whined into being, unleashing a shower of metal hell upon him as he twisted and turned through the gates and back out into the open river beyond.

He took the first left, since that was the only method open to him. Above his head, the helicopter swooped down again, this time settling for a position just ahead of Gordon, at the next turning. It kicked up a haze of water as it floated there, engraving a circle into the water by it's very presence.

The bottom of the black behemoth opened up, and some… _thing _dropped out. It seemed to sink for a moment before bobbing back up, a singular red light blinking. As he approached it at hazardous speeds, he saw that it looked like a metal sphere, just a little bit smaller than an exercise ball.

And then it exploded with a resounding bang, the resulting shockwave sending the front of the airboat up into the air until Gordon managed to gain some control and turn the thing into calmer waters. Gordon shook his head and straightened his glasses.

So. Depth charges. Except they floated. So… floating depth charges.

That contradiction of terms made his head hurt almost as much as the ringing in his ears. Another mine dropped down in front of him, and Gordon swerved to avoid it. The helicopter seemed to be content to stick with this form of attack, and soon Gordon found himself swerving through a minefield of ticking bombs, each ready to explode and send him flying away in some awkward and potentially fatal manner.

Gordon shot towards the wreckage of a half buried tunnel, taking refuge underneath as the barest slivers of sunlight bore down through the cracks. Coming out the other side, Gordon made a sharp left, blasting forwards to go underneath two sets of bridges, one after the other.

He was completely underneath the first by the time he noticed the CPs hurtling down on ropes, timing their falls perfectly so as to land on the airboat rather than get run over by it. One seemed to be holding on to the fan casing, while the other was gripping the rusted yet sturdy metal poles that made up the structure of the airboat. He pulled out his handgun and pointed it towards Gordon as they passed underneath the next bridge, two more CPs dropping down to join the fun.

With as sudden a jerk as he could manage, Gordon sent the airboat into an on-the-spot spiral, knocking the two extra CPs aside with the fan casing while also losing the lone CP that had been clinging there. The impact also managed to knock the gun from the hand of the CP beside him, who instead took to wrapping his arm around Gordon's neck while using the other to try and take control of the airboat.

Still having most of the control, Gordon managed to turn left again as they sprang out onto the river beyond, the helicopter above circling like an enormous eagle above them.

As they shot down the wide river, Gordon noticed one of the troop transport vans in the far distance, having parked itself on a ridge quite a few feet above water level. Both Gordon and his erstwhile enemy watched as, with an echoing, whooshing bang, the van fired two missiles, both heading straight for some towering smokestacks beside the river. They both released a sigh of relief as one of the missiles completely missed the target.

Both of them tensed as the second hit dead on, hitting the second smokestack right at it's base. With an incredible speed for something so big, it began to tumble, looming down on them as they sped towards the spot it was inevitably going to crash into. Gordon tugged at the handlebars with his spare hand, the other clutching the arm that was wrapped around his neck. It wouldn't budge to the left. Looking over, he saw that the CP was trying to redirect the airboat in the opposite direction.

They both seemed to realise their predicament in the same instant, and looked to each other. Gordon thrust his head to the left, and the CP nodded. The airboat turned, the collapsing smokestack crashing down just a few inches to their side, sending up a huge wave of water that helped to further push the airboat away. Since the river wasn't wide enough to accommodate the smokestack, it seemed to shatter as it collided with the unforgiving rock on the other side.

Both Gordon and the CP looked to each other in relief. Gordon slipped the crowbar out from under his chair and gave the CP a resounding conk on the forehead, knocking him off the airboat and into the water below. Speeding away from the broken smokestack, Gordon found only drain pipes, thick metal bars stopping any exit that way. A singular mine plopped into the water in front of him, and Gordon made a large U-turn.

He headed straight for the broken remains of the smokestacks, specifically a shard that had formed a ramp of sorts that would take him flying over the obstacle. A few more mines dropped down in front of him, but Gordon easily swerved around them, eventually flying up at an angle into the air before crashing down in the water on the other side. The airboat bounced as it acclimated to the sudden impact, and Gordon followed the river around to the right.

In the distance, Gordon saw two large pipes that would (he hoped) take him to some semblance of safety. Atop the wall these two pipes lay in, however, was another of the armed vans, ready to make war. With the same noises as it's earlier brother, it launched several missiles into the air, which gradually banked and made their way directly towards him.

Another mine dropped down in front of him, and Gordon swerved to the side of the high-walled canal he now found himself in. One of the missiles exploded against the wall as he reached it, and Gordon had to swing the bottom of the airboat up to take the majority of the punishment while still keeping a steady hand on his glasses.

Still didn't stop the ringing in his ears though. He could feel the wind from the helicopter's blades as it swooped down low to him, having become clued in to his game plan. Unfortunately for the Combine, it was too little too late, and Gordon was speeding down the left-hand tunnel. The familiar whine of the helicopter's gun started up, but he was around the bend before anything could hit him.

The tunnel took him through several twists and turns before bringing him out in the open again, this time at another ramp mechanism. It didn't take Gordon long to figure out how it worked (heavy thing pulls one end of pulley system down, ramp comes up) and Gordon was once again hurtling through the air before crashing down on the shallow river on the other side.

Only a large tunnel on his left was open for business, so Gordon went that way. A few twists and turns later, Gordon was stopped in his tracks by a shambles of a gate blocking his path. He powered down the airboat as he made his approach, the vehicle eventually bumping into the gate with a quiet thud. It was made of up of metals from dozens of different sources, colours and sizes. On his left, behind a fenced off area of the walkways on either side of the tunnel, a woman in a mish-mash of navy and khaki coloured clothes stared at him.

"Hey! You're Freeman, aren't you?"

Footsteps drew Gordon's attention upwards before he could reply. Standing on a walkway just behind the gate, an black man stood in clothing very similar to the one the woman was wearing. It was then that Gordon realised that it was some kind of uniform.

He waved meekly. "Hello."

"Well, I wouldn't believe it if I couldn't see it with my own eyes! Dr Gordon Freeman himself!"

The man seemed both impressed and pleased at the same time. With a nod to his female comrade, he walked back to the right, disappearing out of view. The gate flew up with a rather creaky mechanical groan, and Gordon was somewhat reluctant to go underneath. He switched on the airboat for a brief moment to get it inside the area. It was more like an airlock than any kind of base. Another pathetic looking gate sat in front of him, blocking the rest of the tunnel from his sight.

A deck sat just beside Gordon as he pulled up, a Vortigaunt waiting for him at the corner. It held onto the airboat while Gordon hefted himself out. He looked to the red eyed alien, half curious, half afraid.

"Thank you."

It nodded graciously, eyes closed. "Your gratitude is appreciated, but not required. Time spent in service of the Freeman is no service at all."

Gordon cocked an eyebrow as the man from before approached him, standing beside him and hooking his thumbs into the straps of his backpack. It made him look like an eager farmer.

"You're just in time, doc. We've gotta move out before the Combine picks us up. We're just getting ready to pull out."

He thrust a thumb up behind him, and Gordon noticed for the first time a short flight of stairs leading up to another level at about head height. What looked like an office was comfortably nestled in the corner, the yellow light from inside looking warm and comforting.

"Come on in. I'll show you what you're up against."

With one last lingering glance at the Vortigaunt - which now held a device that resembled a gun by the barrel, it's concentration on the airboat - Gordon nodded and followed. The female rebel from before was stood beside the entrance to the office and smiled shyly as he entered, trying not to look at him too obviously.

His eager friend had started without him, pointing to one of many large maps that had been pasted to the wall. A large magnifying glass extended out of the wall beside it, but Gordon didn't see any point in using it at this juncture. Two tables on his right beneath the windows had their fair share of books spread about haphazardly, as well as some large rolled up papers that Gordon assumed were more maps. A radio crackled quietly in the corner of the desk.

"Here, take a look at this. This here's the dam, it's just up ahead." Gordon followed his finger to a small black line conjoining two masses of land.

His tour guide checked over to him to see if he was following. Gordon nodded.

Satisfied, he continued, pointing to a hastily scribbled Lambda symbol behind the dam. "Eli's hideout is here, a stone's throw from the apron and nestled in the old hydro plant. But getting there with that Hunter chopper on your ass? Next to _impossible_."

Hunter Chopper. So that was what they were called. Made sense.

Looking incredibly smug, the man hooked his thumbs into the straps of his backpack once again, rocking up down on his toes to make him look even _more _like an eager farmer. "Good news is, the Vortigaunt's working his magic on your airboat, so you'll have a little more firepower going forward."

He turned, checking out the window and into the river beyond. "I think he's just finishing up now."

With that, he walked out of the office, leaving Gordon to mentally check if he could remember the route the map was showing. Considering it was only a few centimetres away on the map, it shouldn't be too difficult. Gordon followed the man outside, where he was waiting for Gordon by the top of the steps.

The Vortigaunt had attached the black gun like instrument to the side of the airboat, green electricity glowing between it's outstretched hand and the base of the device. It stopped as the man spoke.

"There were are! That gun came from one of the same Hunter choppers that you're up against."

Eyebrow cocked, Gordon looked over to the Farmer.

He shrugged, smiling. "I always like to bring a little irony to a fire fight."

Gordon wasn't really sure how to take that, so he just smiled and nodded before heading down to the airboat. He repeated the gesture by way of thanks to the Vortigaunt, who stepped back as though he were a servant making room for his King. Gordon slipped inside the airboat.

"Now, it's been given some modifications, so it'll aim and fire at anything using Combine tech. Leaves you free to concentrate on the steering. Take that chopper down, and you should be able to tear on through to Eli's place."

Gordon nodded to farmer, keeping his gaze ahead. The gun was just beside the handlebars, but also above them enough so as not to interfere with the steering.

"For freedom!"

The sudden outburst from the Vortigaunt made Gordon duck his head a little, and he looked to the alien irritably. It didn't seem to notice.

In front of him, the gate creaked open, rising up in front of him to reveal the sunlit tunnel beyond. The light was becoming slightly orange as it shone into the tunnel from around the left corner. Had he really been on the run that long?

"Give 'em hell, doc," the woman said, eager hand on the lever controlling the gate.

He smiled again and nodded to her operating the controls. "I'll try my best."

Gordon gave the keys a good twist and started the airboat on it's way. Their adoring looks were beginning to disconcert him, so Gordon tried to concentrate on going straight forward.

Hero worship was something he had never had to deal with in his life. Ever. Now, according to Dr Breen, he had a messianic reputation? What the hell for? Falling over himself and accidentally killing things in the process?

Gordon's attention was suddenly brought to what lay ahead as he turned the corner and was confronted by the same helicopter again, waiting at the mouth of the tunnel. The whine of the gun coming to life made him wince as he realised he had nowhere to go. Then he realised it was coming from the airboat. He could only watch in delight as the gun unleashed glowing blue metal hell on the helicopter, instantly taking out the mounted gun that hung from the front of the beast.

Alarms sounded from inside the flying terror, and it quickly turned and blasted away into the now pink, dusky sky. The mounted weapon on his airboat refused to let up for at least another few seconds before seemingly running out of bullets. A humming noise that steadily increased in pitch dissuaded Gordon of any panicked feelings, however, assuring him it was just taking a break.

Riding the murky water for a few minutes more, Gordon eventually found himself in another narrow yet high canal, and he half expected to become trapped by another incredibly tall metal gate. All he came across, however, were more twists and turns, his view incredibly obscured by the stacks of containers towering up into the sky on either side of him.

The helicopter quickly returned, this time attempting to resort to mines. He turned another corner, a bridge going from one side of the canal to the other grabbing his attention when he saw a solitary figure watching him from the left hand-side.

That bastard again, no different than He had been before.

A mine dropped in front of Gordon and exploded unusually fast, making him close his eyes and swerve manically to compensate for the sudden wave of water that gushed over him. Circling around, he attempted to catch another glimpse of Him.

Obviously, He was gone.

The helicopter droned on above him, the noise only just now starting to annoy Gordon.

Now he was pissed off.

It didn't take Gordon long before he was roaring through a tunnel that took him out to a huge reservoir, albeit one that had been significantly dried up since it's glory days. Tug boats and cargo ships rest on sandy beaches around him, long since nestled into the dirt and sand. Towers of rock tore out of the ground and into the sky around him, and Gordon couldn't help but think that they must have been bitches to navigate around when the water level was normal.

As he emerged out of the maze of rocks and derelict ships, Gordon saw the dam on his right. Only one of the three water vents was open at the top. Directly in front of it, some rather large - if twisted - logs had been propped up on rocks to point directly to the open gate. Not needing another sign as to where to go, Gordon set a course and sped towards it.

A mine dropped down directly in his path quickly corrected that idea, and he whirled around, the explosion giving him only the slightest of bounces as he flew away.

His mounted gun had already taken aim at the marauding Hunter chopper. With a satisfying bang, it seemed to take out something to do with the blades, as there was a rather dire whining noise that sounded nothing like the mounted weapon. The chopper plummeted, and, satisfied, Gordon turned and started heading towards his makeshift 'ramp' again. However, as he tore a path through the floating debris of wood and broken crates towards the ramp, the helicopter droned overhead, albeit at a much lower altitude than before. It seemed to have lost all of it's offensive capabilities, however, since it didn't fire on him or drop anything in his path. Instead, it settled for heading for the same vent Gordon was racing towards.

But instead of a kamikaze manoeuvre, it went above the dam, positioning itself on the other side of the vent Gordon was now going to go hurtling through.

He had to admit, that was quite clever.

His automatic weapon didn't seem to think so, and started to disagree very vocally as it unleashed hell on the defenceless chopper. As he reached the ramp, Gordon reached beneath his chair and retrieved his crowbar.

The airboat left the log and flew through the vent as Gordon clambered to the side. Holding onto his glasses, Gordon leapt from the airboat as it collided head on with the chopper, firing relentlessly as it went.

He wasn't entirely sure what happened between the two vehicles. The sound of something being sliced apart assaulted his ears, but was quickly followed by some loud crashing and a resounding, ear-splitting bang. At that point, Gordon stopped paying attention to the sounds of the duelling boat and helicopter, and focused on the fact that he was falling countless feet to, most likely, his death. He skidded against the gradually sloping surface of the dam, eventually sliding all the way down into the incredibly cold water below.

His grip on his glasses held steadfast as he was dunked unceremoniously into the ice cold drink, and it took him less than a second to emerge.

The occasional grunt punctuating his heavy breathing, Gordon whipped his head around as he tried to ascertain what happened. Looking to his right, he watched as the last remains of the Combine chopper sank beneath the deep blue surface, the remains of the airboat tangled in with the blades. He felt a small twinge of sadness watching the boat disappear forever. As much as the experience had terrified him, he would still miss the feel of the wind rushing past his face.

True, there were people shooting at him and clouds of toxic waste and missiles and collapsing smoke stacks and helicopters dropping explosives, but…

Gordon forgot what point he had been trying to make.

Shaking his head, Gordon started swimming. It took him a few minutes to swim around a corner that the airboat would have circumvented in a second. _That _was why he missed it. But, on the shore on his left, the derelict remains of what looked like a hydro plant waited for him. A ladder led up to a deck that, in turn, would take him onto glorious dry land.

He started swimming towards Black Mesa East. Although only God knew what he would find there.

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(A/N: Here we are folks! Sorry this took so long; between 'Sidelines' and Christmas stuff I've been pretty busy. But here it is (finally). Some sections have been either truncated or cut entirely, but that's just to keep the story moving. I still think there's perhaps a bit too much mindless head-bashing going on, but equally, there's something lost from Gordon's journey if he doesn't have insurmountable odds to get through and fight against.

I think I may have been channelling _Die Hard 4.0/Live Free or Die Hard _with the airboat/helicopter crash. I was definitely using _Indiana Jones_ with the bit on the airboat and the CPs climbing all over it.

Action movies are fun (especially when I can justify them as research).

Anyway, review!)


	5. Black Mesa East

-1Disclaimer: I don't own _Half-Life._

_**Welcome to City 17**_

_**Chapter Five: Black Mesa East**_

The hazy orange coming in from over the horizon did little to relax Gordon as he heaved himself up the ladder leading to the deck. Stepping onto the planking, his HEV suit glistened in the fading sunlight as the water trickled down, dislodging with every cautious footstep he took. The power station towering in front of him was pretty firmly embedded in the rock face on the left, leaving a dishevelled, grassy area on the right. Thick power lines spread in a tangled web over his head from the building in front of him and over the river to hydroelectric generators. Huge blue letters erected on the top betrayed the City's eastern European roots. Gordon wondered what country this used to be.

His boots crunching against the long, dry grass, Gordon made his way around the building. After shuffling his way past several barrels that blocked the fenced doorway in front of him, Gordon was confronted by an open doorway in a wall ahead of him, the only decoration a faded, torn picture of Dr Breen, the Lambda symbol sprayed across it in bright orange paint.

That would make this Black Mesa East, then. Through the doorway, Gordon could only see an enclosed, dark metal room that looked more like the entrance to a bunker than a secret base. Although that could be the same thing, the way this world seemed to be going.

After a look back to the open air from whence he came, Gordon stepped inside. What dim lights there were went out almost immediately, the door slamming shut behind him.

On his left, he saw two cameras spring to life on either side of what looked like a window, except the glass had been covered by some black metal sheets. The only light from the cameras was a consistently flashing red light beneath the lens.

An unfamiliar female voice, authoritative yet cautious, echoed from some unseen speakers.

"_They've got something. Okay, it's… human. Hello?"_

Gordon didn't reply. He was instead occupied by the red lasers that sprang from each separate corner of the room, running along the wall until they met in a square that surrounded Gordon, levitating above his head. They gradually made their way down, and he debated whether or not to duck.

"_Take it easy in there. You're safe now. You'll have to forgive the scanning process, we can't take any chances."_

He let a sigh of relief loose, allowing the lasers to scan over his body while still being careful not to look at them. Although he had no scientific basis for doing so, something told him that looking directly into lasers, scanners or not, was not a good idea. The lasers reached his toes and quickly cut out, and air hissed from vents above the window.

His attention already on the closed window, he saw that the black metal that once covered it was rising up, revealing the small observation booth beyond. Inside, two people were stood at the control panel he assumed was beneath the window and out of his sight. A man in what Gordon had come to recognise as standard civilian clothing was stood on the left, his short cropped brown hair and pallid skin making him look like so many others Gordon had seen today.

The woman on the right, however, her brown hair held up in a tight bun with chopsticks and wearing a surprisingly clean white turtleneck sweater, looked entirely different from anyone else Gordon had encountered so far. Her so far disinterested gaze travelled up to meet him, and suddenly changed to one of abject shock.

"_Dr Freeman? Gordon Freeman? Is that you? You made it here this quickly!" _She laughed as she spoke, but it didn't sound entirely genuine. It didn't sound entirely fake, either, but there was definitely something off about how she said it._ "Well, Eli's going to be amazed, not to mention relieved. I'm Doctor Mossman, Dr Judith Mossman. I've been hearing about you since long before the Black Mesa Incident."_

"Oh, okay."

She didn't hear him, or chose not to. The civilian by her side, meanwhile, was looking back and forth between the two, his stunned gaze levelled mostly at Gordon. It made him feel nervous, and he wanted the damn airlock to open for him now.

Dr Mossman, meanwhile, was lost in her own world of reminiscences. _"Ah, Black Mesa. I do so envy you working with Eli and Dr Kleiner when they were at the top of their field."_

A dull clang came from behind the metal door on Gordon's right, and Mossman looked up at something above her.

"_Ah, there we go. You can come through now."_

Finally, the door opened. Gordon rushed out, eager to avoid the penetrating, adoring stare of the civilian. Mossman stepped out from the booth just before Gordon emerged. She smiled, clasping her hands together nervously.

"I'll take you down to Eli right away. He would never forgive me if I kept you waiting," she laughed, and this one felt genuine. Not that Gordon was ever that good at reading people. It occurred to him that he just wasn't used to people laughing and smiling. Living so close to death for days on end tended to depress people somewhat.

Mossman started walking, and Gordon went along with her, trying not to overtake her in his eagerness to see Eli.

"We could certainly use the extra help around here."

As she spoke, she led him through a door and down a corridor, turning past a fenced area in front of them, which, if followed, would have taken then down an archway of a corridor that descended into the depths of whatever kind of base they had going on here. Instead, she led him to an elevator. She pushed a button and turned to him, a somewhat anxious glance spared for the crowbar in Gordon's grubby hand.

He offered it up a little to give her a better look. "It's a… crowbar."

She seemed to let the thrum of unseen generators fill the silence between them before taking a breath and continuing. "We've covered a lot of ground in the last few months, but things would go so much faster if we had more people with your training. We're closing in on a reliable local teleport technology, something the Combine still hasn't mastered. Eli thinks their portals are string based, similar to our Calabi-Yau model."

Gordon nodded, only _just _understanding. The Calabi-Yau model was something in the planningstages before the Black Mesa Incident. She was talking about it in the past tense, and offhandedly at that. This was going to take some getting used to.

Dr Mossman - Gordon wasn't sure if he should be thinking of her as 'Judith' or not - continued on, ignorant of his trouble keeping up.

"But they failed to factor in the Dark Energy equations. They can tunnel through from their universe, but once they're here, they're dependent on local transportation. If they knew what we were doing with 'Entanglement'…" She smiled, but there was no humour behind it. It was something Gordon had seen before - smiling and joking to hide the seriousness of it all. It reminded him of Bennett, the less than serious security guard from the rail system. God, he had only been speaking to her _yesterday_. She was probably dead by now, or at the very least approaching fifty.

The elevator arrived with a shuddering clang, knocking Gordon out of his ruminations. Mossman walked inside, as did Gordon, planting his feet on a spot not too far away to appear anti-social, but not so close as to be uncomfortable.

Or maybe he was over thinking things too much. He tended to do that. Except when it came to killing things, of course. Then it was all about the ignorance.

Mossman laughed again, bringing her hand to her face in embarrassment. "Listen to me, I sound like a post-doc… I'm just so excited to think that we'll finally have the chance to work together."

Okay, this hero worship was getting… uncomfortable, to say the least. Gordon hoped his grimace wasn't too obvious.

She turned and pressed a button on the control panel behind her. The gate closed shut before the elevator jolted to life, taking them down. Gordon couldn't help but watch as the various floors went by, Dr Mossman's words barely registering.

"Where was I? Oh, yes. Dr Kleiner compressed the Xen relay far beyond anything he imagined at Black Mesa."

The first floor they passed looked like some kind of recreation area, or at the very least, a relaxing one. Old, comfortable sofas were placed around the room, the occasional table surrounded by plastic chairs usually reserved for school lunch halls. The only occupants were a civilian and a… Vortigaunt, was it?

And they were playing chess. The Vortigaunt was studying the table, stroking what Gordon assumed was it's chin as it considered it's next move.

Playing chess with aliens. At least humanity couldn't be accused of being prejudiced anymore.

Mossman continued. "We figured out how to use Xen as an unexpressed access."

The second floor revealed a surprisingly clean kitchen, the silver metal tables glistening in the white lights above them. Two Vortigaunts stood around two different counters, one chopping vegetables while the other experimentally tasted a broth boiling in front of it.

Both wore chef hats.

And Mossman kept on talking. "Effectively a dimensional slingshot so we can swing around the border world and come back in local space without having to pass through."

This time, a long corridor stretched out in front of them, what looked like turbines poking out of the left-hand wall at regular intervals. While a woman in the customary denim garb watched with a clipboard, two Vortigaunts charged their electricity attacks, firing them into the generators.

At least there was one thing Gordon could find sense in. However, it really wasn't enough to satiate his curiosity.

He looked to Mossman. "What's with the aliens?"

She just blinked. Then she looked out of the front of the elevator and spotted something more interesting. "Oh! Here's Eli now."

Now _that_ brought him back to reality. Gordon blinked and looked to the large basement area that was opening up in front of him. Eli, his hair grey-white, was talking to a Vortigaunt, holding a metal device the size of a football between them.

"All right, good. You keep right on it."

He handed it back, and, with a gracious nod, the Vortigaunt returned to whatever work it was doing on the right-hand side of the room. A huge metal sphere hung from the ceiling above Eli's head, matching the teleporter technology in Dr Kleiner's lab. A similar teleport chamber was set up in front of it, a tank of swirling orange and black liquid directly next to the chamber. There was a table in front of the tank of glowing liquid, beside it a keyboard stuck onto a control panel that looked far too complicated for Gordon to understand at the moment. Hopefully he would have the leisure to practice with it. The elevator came to a jerky halt, and the gates opened for them. Mossman led the way, Gordon feeling excited and anxious at the same time.

"Eli, look who I found in the airlock."

Mossman's words broke Gordon from his reverie, and suddenly he found himself stood in front of Eli Vance. Only then did Gordon notice that the lower half of Eli's right leg was missing. Well, Eli's right, Gordon's left. In it's place, a curved rod of metal, not entirely unlike the tip of his crowbar, acted as a foot.

The smile was exactly the same, however, the wrinkles of age only contributing to the warm, grandfatherly feelings the man engendered from almost everyone.

"Gordon Freeman. Let me get a look at you, man." He paused to look Gordon up and down, and for the first time the scientist wondered about how he must look to others. In short, a mess.

"My God, you haven't changed one iota, how do you do it?"

Gordon smiled. "Luck."

"Yeah, I'll bet." Eli scratched his white beard thoughtfully. "Now let's see… the last time I saw you, I sent you up for help after the Resonance Cascade. I didn't think it'd take you this long to get back to me!"

Although the smile on his face and the laughter in his words didn't intend for such a reaction, Gordon felt a pang of guilt strike through his chest. So many people had been depending on him to return. So many…

Oblivious, Eli gently waved his hands around dismissively. "Welcome to the lab, anyway. It's not Black Mesa, but it's served us well enough."

"It's going to be a lot more like Black Mesa with Gordon here to help," Mossman chipped in, giving Gordon that same unnerving smile, like a politician getting friendly with one of their superiors. Having never been someone's superior before, Gordon wasn't sure how to react.

So, running on default mode, he just smiled awkwardly.

"Right you are," Eli said, pointing an agreeable finger at Mossman. "MIT graduates are few and far between these days." His gaze wandered back to Gordon, and down to the HEV suit somewhat disparagingly. "We'll get you out of that Hazard Suit and back into your lab coat, where you belong."

Nothing had sounded more glorious to Gordon in all his life, and his face must have communicated as much.

Mossman nodded, smiling. "Let me just finish some work and I'll see what I can dig up."

Although he never liked to think of people in such a away, Gordon hoped Mossman would leave so he could talk to Eli. He had so many questions, and Eli felt like the only person who would give them to him openly.

But, naturally, Dr Mossman had more to say. She looked to him, grinning from ear to ear. "Dr Freeman… it's been a real honour. I'm looking forward to working together."

And, with that statement, she left a somewhat befuddled Gordon standing next to Eli, disappearing into a small room on the far side of the basement.

For a moment, the only noise was the continuous beeping of some kind of monitoring device, although Gordon was clueless as to where it was. He looked to Eli, who smiled.

"Feel free to look-" he frowned, looking to Gordon's arm. "What happened there?"

Gordon blinked, and looked down. Eli was looking at the broken charger port in his elbow.

"Oh. Not sure. Probably a bullet."

Stroking his chin, Eli's eyes poked up to look at him. "A bullet."

He shrugged. "Or two."

Eli was silent for a few moments, but then he smiled, and everything was right with the world.

"How times change, huh?"

"Like you wouldn't believe."

The two shared a smile, not unlike those they had shared at Black Mesa. Not unlike the one they had shared three days ago when Dr Magnusson was yelling at Dr Kleiner for yet another small and insignificant delay. Except it wasn't three days ago. It looked more like twenty years, judging by the wrinkles and grey hair on everybody he knew. Well, everybody except Alyx…

He blinked _that _thought right out of his head.

"I told Izzy putting the charger there was a bad idea," the elder scientist grumbled, more to himself than to Gordon. He nodded over to the table beside the teleporter. "Come on over here, Gordon, and I'll get that suit charged up."

"Charged up? But… lab coat…"

Eli smiled. "We'll take care of that later. But since you're in it, we might as well take care of this now."

Gordon desperately tried to find some reason as to why he had to take off the suit, to remove himself from this orange and black coffin that had encased him for almost three days now with little to no respite. But, finding none, he just sighed and nodded, walking to the table and having a seat opposite his old friend.

A long black cable hung from the tank of orange-black liquid, ending in a socket which was basically a flat sheet of metal. Picking it up, Eli placed the metal end on the Lambda symbol of Gordon's suit. The familiar positive noise of the HEV suit charging filled the air.

"I'll fix the elbow charger later," Eli clarified, resting back in the plastic chair, fingers lacing together comfortably over the Harvard logo on his faded sweater. "Oh, for God's sake, let go of that thing."

Looking down, Gordon found that he was still tightly clutching the crowbar in his gloved hand, letting it dangle beside the chair. Bringing it up, he placed it on the table in front of him. He felt incredibly reluctant to let go. This thing had become his lifeline, perhaps even more so than the HEV suit. Letting it go would mean letting his guard down, would mean relaxing, would mean his enemies being able to get the drop on him.

"Gordon. Put it down," Eli soothed, staring him in the eyes.

Gordon released his grip, and brought his hand back to his lap. He smiled apologetically at Eli, who just stretched back in his chair with a smile. He looked grateful for the opportunity to get off his feet. Or foot. Gordon was unsure about these things now.

So he changed the subject.

"Dr Mossman seems… professional."

Eli nodded. "Fine scientist, Judith. She was up for your job at Black Mesa." He gave Gordon a wink. "But you edged her out with your Innsbruck experience."

A low grunt escaped Gordon's throat. "Maybe I could have given her the job of ending the world."

"Don't say that," Eli ordered, a startling evenness in his voice as he sprung forward in his chair to point at Gordon. "There was _no way_ you could have known what would happen that day. I don't want you even _thinking _it was your fault. You hear me?"

There was a certain vehemence to his tone that made Gordon reluctant to speak. Seeing the effect it had, Eli relaxed back in his chair again, rubbing his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Gordon. It's just… seeing you again, and thinking about back then…" He sighed, letting his hand drop and looking to a point over Gordon's shoulder. Turning, he saw a Vortigaunt working diligently at a computer terminal there, checking between the computer screen and a book beside the keyboard. But beside the unnerving alien, on the top of a bookshelf that was criminally sparse, sat a framed picture of Eli with his family. He looked as he did back at Black Mesa, thick black hair only just being tickled by white at the temples. Nestled happily between him and his wife was baby Alyx, grinning inanely.

"You remember my wife Azian, don't you?"

Remember her? He was only having dinner with her, Eli and Alyx a few nights ago. The night before hell came to visit Black Mesa.

"That picture and Alyx were all I managed to carry out of Black Mesa."

Silence once again filled the air, only the faint tapping of the Vortigaunt's wiry fingers and the thrumming of the generator beside them to punctuate the quiet.

"…you've still got Alyx, though. She's…" Gordon chose his words carefully, "…changed."

Eli grinned. "Not as much as you might think. She still brings in the _strangest_ things. Like that thing, there," he said, nodding to a jar on a shelf on the other side of the Vortigaunt. Inside, a green sphere not much bigger than a basketball floated inside, something resembling a tail dangling loosely from the back. "We still have _no _idea what that does."

"She's an explorer, then?" he asked, a severe case of déjà vu assaulting him. It was like he was sat back in the Black Mesa canteen, listening to Eli's stories about the cutest thing Alyx had done recently when they should have been discussing the next experiment.

"Yeah," he chuckled. "Real adrenaline junkie. She was the first to volunteer for the teleporter while we were still worried about the effects the thing would have on vegetables."

Instinctively, Gordon looked over to the teleport chamber beside him.

"We've almost got that portal working again. But," Eli laughed, "I wouldn't blame you if you didn't volunteer for the next trial run."

Gordon smiled, but it wasn't sincere. He hoped it wasn't noticeable.

It was. But then again, Eli was always uncanny at noticing these things. More than anyone else, he could tell what Gordon was thinking or feeling at any given moment.

"What's wrong, Gordon?"

"I…" He searched for the right words, gazing into Eli's worried visage as though it would help. "What… happened, Eli?"

"How do you mean?"

"I _mean_… the Combine… City 17, Black Mesa… why is Dr Breen _everywhere_?"

The elder scientist's lip curled at the very mention of the name. "Dr Breen. He's the administrator of this whole vile business now. He ended the Seven Hour War by managing Earth's 'surrender'. The Combine rewarded him with power."

"Seven Hour War?" The words spilled out of him now. He didn't care if he was being rude. He just wanted answers.

Eli frowned. "…yes. After the nuclear explosion wiped out Black Mesa-"

"The what?"

Gordon's stomach dropped with an almost audible thump. His mouth suddenly felt very dry. Black Mesa was gone. Everybody he knew, everybody he had met on his travels… all the promises he had made. All of them empty and hollow. He thought about Bennett and Philips, waiting for him back at the freezer area, of Harv and Peterson waiting at the office complex.

"_Don't forget we're down here, all right?"_

But now… they were all dead. And Gordon Freeman, the one who abandoned all of them, giving them false hope… he was being hailed as 'The One Free Man' and 'The Opener of the Way'.

He felt ill just thinking about it.

His frown deepening, Eli's gaze bored into Gordon's. "Gordon… how much were you told before you got here? Were you told _anything?"_

This time, it was Gordon's frown that deepened. Told? By who? But then it hit Gordon. For all Eli knew, Gordon had simply been living in the wilderness outside the cities for the past two decades, biding his time before his 'glorious' return.

But the truth… the truth was far more humble, and so much more complicated. How could he explain? _Should _he explain? Gordon already knew that He, whoever He was, had powers far beyond his reckoning. What if he took objection to his presence being announced? Would he take whoever Gordon told and put them in the black limbo as well?

"Gordon?"

His head sprang up far too quickly. "Hm?"

"You know… you can tell me anything. You can trust me."

His mouth dropped open slightly. He _should _tell him. Maybe Eli could help. Maybe someone in the Resistance knew who the bastard was and would be able to help him fight Him. After all, Dr Kleiner said he had _his_ HEV suit. How could he have got his hands on Gordon's suit without _some _knowledge of Him and His motives?

Maybe, just maybe, with their help, he could fight back. And maybe that would make the deaths of everyone back at Black Mesa worthwhile somehow. But the words didn't come. He couldn't say them, as though there was some mental block on the very syllables. Gordon wondered if it was his subconscious preventing him, or something far more sinister. Slightly ashamed, he closed his mouth and let his gaze fall away from Eli, instead focusing on a spot on the floor.

Metal doors on the far side of the room behind Eli slid open with a mighty clang, and the sprightly form of Alyx Vance sprang forth. Her gaze travelled to him, and her face lit up. Gordon was grateful for the distraction, and found himself all too willing to lose himself in her pleased smile.

"Gordon! The Vortigaunts said you were here." She wandered over to her father's chair, leaning an arm against the back. "I can't believe you made it here so quickly on foot."

"I believe," Eli grunted, pushing himself to his feet, "he broke your record, honey."

"Well," she laughed, folding her arms, "he earned it. I guess you proved you can handle yourself out there."

"There's nothing Gordon can't handle," Eli added, smiling with a pride that made Gordon feel just a little bit better. He wrapped an arm around Alyx's shoulders, giving her a playful squeeze. "With the possible exception of you."

Ducking her head, Alyx tucked some hair behind her ear. "Dad, please…"

Grinning inanely now, Eli made an unsure noise as he leant back, pointing at Alyx suspiciously. With the most ambiguous of smiles that confused Gordon more than anything else, Alyx made her way past Gordon and to the other side of the room, yanking down a ladder on the wall that led up to some control panels linked to the teleporter array hanging above their heads.

Eli gave Gordon a wink, which just confused him more. "Looks like your suit's done," he said, nodding to the generator beside him.

Gordon checked his stats. He was indeed fully charged again. He detached the cable, and checked his elbow. It still didn't look good.

"I'll have to repair that later, but that can wait until you're out of that suit. In the meantime…" Nodding over his shoulder, he gestured to a large glass cylinder in the corner of the room beside him. "Take a look at this, Gordon."

He got to his feet, and after a quick debate as to whether he should take his crowbar or not, decided to simply follow the laborious pace of his old friend. Eli came to a stop at a control panel in front of the glass chamber. Inside, a chunk of golden crystal was suspended by a metal clamp protruding from the wall. It wasn't unlike the ones that Gordon used to shove into the Anti-Mass Spectrometer back at Black Mesa.

Eli pressed a few buttons, and with an affirmative grunt, several golden lights sprang from underneath. Upon contact with the crystal, the lights refracted out of the top in multi-coloured rays.

"The resonance calibration is off," he mused absently.

Smiling, his old friend looked over at him. "You know, it took us a few _weeks_ to figure that out."

Not sure how to take that, Gordon just shrugged and smiled. He pointed to the control panel. "May I?"

"Eager to get back to science?"

"You have no idea."

Fiddling with the dials on either side of the keypad on the control panel, Gordon got to adjusting the calibration. Still smiling, Eli gave Gordon a quick pat on the back before walking back to the Vortigaunt, his metal limb thumping against the ground regularly as he went.

While Eli quietly discussed the readouts of the paradigm matrixes, Alyx started absently humming a quiet tune from where she was perched above them. And suddenly, with the warm lights of the crystal in front of him, with the thrum of the generators, with Eli's quiet discussion and with Alyx's peaceful humming, Gordon felt at home. He felt safe. His shoulders slumped as he finally relaxed, and Gordon was surprised at just how tired he suddenly was. Maybe he would be able to sleep tonight. In a _bed_. An actual, honest to goodness _bed_. That would be nice.

He heard a door open from the other side of the room, and watched as Dr Mossman strolled out, looking to Eli.

"Eli, Destovaya's-"

Her gaze instantly travelling up to Alyx.

"-Alyx, I thought you were on watch."

"The Vortigaunts relieved me so I could come see Gordon," she said lightly, still tapping away on a control panel. "Anyway, I should be in here, working on the portal."

Mossman's expression didn't change, the disapproval still etched there. "I have the repairs well in hand. _Someone_ misjudged the capacity of the Combine Thyristor."

There was a deafening pause, and Gordon couldn't tear his eyes away from the train wreck occurring right in front of him. Deadly silent, Alyx clambered down a few rungs of the ladder before leaping off, landing in front of Mossman.

"Are you blaming me?"

"No. Not at all." She seemed genuinely appalled by the insinuation. "It was a calculation error, not a mechanical problem."

"Then maybe you should let _me_ do the calculations next time as _well_ as installing it."

Well. That didn't sound like a precursor to a fight _at all_. Feeling somewhat nervous, Gordon glanced over to Eli, who had started to pay attention to the nuclear war brewing over the Vortigaunt's shoulder. The two old friends exchanged a glance, Eli looking thoughtful, Gordon looking a little terrified.

"Alyx, really," Mossman admonished, and Gordon winced a little. Alyx didn't really strike him as the kind of person who took admonishing well. "Sometimes I think you deliberately misunderstand me."

Gordon could only guess what kind of profanity would emerge from the young Vance's mouth as she took a breath. Eli, however, didn't want to find out, and hobbled over as fast as his metal leg would allow.

"Uh, Alyx. Why don't you take Gordon along and give him some practice with the Gravity Gun?"

He frowned. _The Gravity what?_

The tension in her posture seemed to melt, and Alyx was quiet for a moment before nodding. "Sure."

She looked chirpily over her shoulder, pointing a thumb at the doors behind her. "Come on, Gordon. Let's go have some fun."

Feeling somewhat hot, Gordon cleared his throat - although it came out more high pitched than intended - and nodded, pressing a few buttons on the control panel in front of him to deactivate the device.

No-one seemed to notice his rather blatant awkwardness, however. Dr Mossman scowled, boring holes into the back of Alyx's head.

"The Zero Point Energy Manipulator is _not _a toy, Alyx."

Even as the elder scientist spoke, Alyx's face was upturned in a grimace. Eli smiled in a 'she means well, Alyx' way, but it seemed to go unnoticed by everyone but Gordon.

"Ugh. Let's get out of here."

She led the way without pause through the large green doors, heading out into the corridor beyond. Gordon looked to Eli questioningly, not quite sure what to do.

"Go along with Alyx, Gordon. We'll see about fixing that suit later."

A part of him wanted to object, but he could also see that Dr Mossman wasn't looking particularly happy. Gordon _didn't_ feel like being around while Eli dealt with that fallout. Also… he glanced over his shoulder, where Alyx was waiting patiently halfway down the corridor. Another part of him… a very small, very confusing part, wouldn't exactly mind spending more time with the young Miss Vance.

Good lord, that felt wrong on so many levels.

A) She was two decades younger than him. Well, kind of. Hell, the last time he saw her, she was gurgling happily about a nice mix of mashed potato and peas she had managed to improvise on her plate.

B) She was Eli's daughter, the very same man who was giving him a kind, supportive, grandfatherly smile and a place to live and be safe now that this whole thing was over.

But, instead of letting any of this come out, Gordon just went back to the old ways of smiling and nodding. He went to join Alyx before pausing and running back to the table. Without thinking, he scooped up the crowbar and, upon the confused looks of pretty much everyone around him, gave it a little jiggle as though he had merely forgotten his keys. Without looking back to their questioning, befuddled gazes, Gordon closed the doors shut beside him and caught up to Alyx.

Refreshingly, she seemed completely nonplussed regarding his crowbar 'habit'.

"So I see you've met Dr Mossman," she said with false cheer, leading him down the corridor and to a door at the far end. "She's one of the main reasons I spend so much time outside. You should hear her drone _on _about how it should have been her in the Black Mesa test chamber that day."

In fairness, Gordon would have been more than happy to let her take over.

Having reached the door, Alyx laughed, burying her face in her hand. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be talking behind her back. It just… it gets a little claustrophobic down here."

Gordon nodded, raising his eyebrows in a 'no kidding' way.

That elicited another laugh from her as she punched in a code into the keypad beside the door. The thin latticework gate swung open for them, and Alyx led him into a larger corridor going off to the left. At the far end, Gordon could see a large airlock door and the familiar booth entrance beside it. Halfway down the corridor, however, cutting a deep, dark hole into the right-hand wall, was the entrance to some other part of the complex.

As they approached it, Alyx cradled her arms, as though suddenly cold. Gordon stopped beside her, thinking that if he were another, more confident sort of man, he would put his hand on her shoulder, or at least ask her if she was all right. As it was, all he could do was let a questioning eyebrow shoot up in her general direction.

"That's the old passage to Ravenholm. It was an old mining town inhabited by some escapees from City 17," she said quietly, her gaze never leaving the darkened tunnel. Looking down it, Gordon could see a very secure looking blast door at the far end, lit just barely by a flickering red light. After another sizeable silence, Alyx continued, her voice sounding just that little bit thicker as she spoke.

"We don't go there anymore."

Gordon tried to ask why, but the word unexpectedly tickled his throat, and he just ended up coughing like an idiot.

Mercifully oblivious to his strange behaviour, Alyx have a silent nod to the airlock doors at the far end of the corridor, wordlessly leading the way up the slight incline. As he walked, he tried not to think about the part of her anatomy that was now level with his face as a result of the slanted floor.

He felt another cough coming on.

Alyx punched a code into the keypad beside the airlock, forcing them open noisily. She looked to him, gesturing for him to get inside. With a polite smile, he bowed slightly and waved the crowbar in front of him for her to go first. In another moment that completely twisted Gordon's brain, she looked as though he were Barney doing a handstand while speaking Russian.

Gordon blinked the mental image away and waited for Alyx to enter.

Still looking confused, Alyx slowly entered the airlock, as though _she_ were the one who had never been here before. Gordon slowly walked in after her, the back of his heels almost getting clipped by the far too quick door slamming shut behind him. For a brief moment, they were stood in the confined darkness of the room with little more than each other's breathing for company. It was an odd experience. Almost total sensory deprivation. So many sights and sounds had bombarded Gordon for so long, it almost felt like sensory overload compared to the mute darkness here. Part of him wanted to stay a while longer.

Then the doors behind Alyx shot open, and the floodlights from outside made him squint. Without prompting, Alyx confidently strolled outside, a decidedly more cautious Gordon following behind her. There were in what was basically a large hole in a the ground. A very, _very _large hole in the ground. Not quite a canyon… more like a baby canyon. Gordon nodded. Baby canyon sounded about right. One section, the one they stood in, was a large circle, the top right of which seemed to be connected to a larger, more open circle. Gordon couldn't see much of what was inside, his view blocked by hobbled together work benches, shipping containers and walkways stretching around the walls.

The night sky seemed to make everything so much smaller and closed in. Gordon wondered what it looked like underneath the sunlight. It took him a few moments to truly register that the night sky meant he had been travelling in this place for roughly a day. It sure as hell didn't feel that way. He blinked the feelings away as his guide spoke.

"So," Alyx said, waving an arm around. "Here we are. The scrap yard."

Not really feeling anything about the place one way or the other, Gordon just nodded, trying to look approving. Not that Alyx would have cared either way, he was sure. The harsh floodlights attached to the crust of the canyon up ahead spread their harsh light over Alyx as she wandered past him, heading to a small glass booth embedded in the wall beside the airlock door. The device inside was almost completely obscured by the light reflecting off the glass.

"This is the Gravity Gun my father was talking about. You can call it the Zero Point Energy Manipulator if you _really want to,"_ she said, looking over her shoulder at him with an expression indicating that he really shouldn't. She punched a code into the keypad beside the container, and the glass slid aside easily.

"It's designed for handling hazardous materials, but we mainly use it for heavy lifting. I found it handy for clearing minefields."

With a healthy tug, she pulled the device out, and Gordon was instantly mesmerised. It was roughly the size of two footballs stuck together side by side. At one end was a handle poking out the back as well a throttle type handlebar sticking out of the side. The front of the device was what interested Gordon most, however. A glowing orange crystal of some sort was encased by a framework of metal, three prongs poking out at the top like fingers. They were relaxed at the moment, retracted in towards the orange crystal inside.

Gordon itched to try it, but Alyx gently placed it back inside the case in the wall. Disappointed, Gordon looked to Alyx questioningly. She smiled.

"Sorry, but I've got to find out what kind of hand-to-eye coordination you've got." She flopped down onto a crate, looking at him intently. "This thing can be dangerous in the wrong hands."

Ignorant of any awkwardness it might cause, Gordon couldn't help frowning a little at the young Vance as she sat against a large crate opposite him, her arms folded. Did she know what he'd _just done?_ And that wasn't even counting everything before that back at Black Mesa. Gordon blinked. Good lord, he was beginning to believe his own press.

Bringing himself out of his pompous thoughts, Gordon shrugged and nodded.

Alyx's smile tightened, as though she hadn't been expecting that response. "Okay then. Pick up that Match over there and we'll get started."

Match? She wanted him to pick up… a match? Was this another challenge?

Trying not to look too clueless, Gordon started checking around for anything with the word 'Match' on it. On a crate behind him lay several handguns, as well as a gleaming revolver. He tried not to think about how eager he was to pick it up. His violent tendencies were difficult for his scientific mind to comprehend in the heat of battle, so he certainly didn't want to ponder them during his quiet moments when he actually had time to _think_.

He looked back to Alyx, clueless.

With a frown that wasn't quite impatience, Alyx nodded to the crate of weapons behind him. "The Match? The USP Match?"

Glancing back, he still didn't see anything. He shrugged.

Alyx ducked her head a little. "Do you know… _anything_ about guns?"

Thinking for a moment, Gordon adjusted his glasses. "They kill people," he murmured.

The lack of noise in the scrap yard became all too apparent as Alyx's gleaming eyes searched his.

There was that urge to cough again.

"The black and silver handgun," she clarified.

Turning back, he found the very same kind of gun he had been using to shoot Civil Protection officers for the past day or so. He _really _didn't like how casual that sounded in his head. Scooping the weapon up, he displayed it side on to Alyx for approval.

Smiling, she nodded, looking at him as though he were insane but she didn't really mind. A slender, gloved hand pointed over to a target on the far side of the scrap yard.

"Just… load it up and shoot."

He had to try several magazines on the crate beside him before he found the one that fit, slamming it in with satisfying finality. Without a second glance to Alyx, he brought the gun up and fired four times. Each shot exploded throughout the canyon, and Gordon wanted to cover his ears. But since Alyx didn't, he decided not to.

Watching him out of the corner of her eye, she walked to the target and looked it over. Slowly, her head came round to look at him.

"You, uh… do this a lot?"

He shrugged, the only answer he could really give.

Her eyebrows shot up, and she looked back to the target board, nodding. "Somehow I don't think we have to worry about the hand-to-eye coordination."

And that seemed to be the end of that. As she walked back to the Gravity Gun, Gordon put the USP Match back on the crate, ejecting the clip as he did so. Remembering something he had watched a soldier do in a movie once, Gordon pulled back the top of the weapon and watched a single golden bullet pop out.

He quickly put everything to do with the weapon back down on the crate, merely because holding them was beginning to feel too natural to him. And now he was learning their names. Wonderful.

By the time he had turned around to face his colleagues' daughter, he found the metal device shoved into his arms.

"Give it a try," Alyx said lightly, her tone free of any challenge or hostility. After setting down his crowbar on the crate, Gordon wrapped his gloved fingers around the handle at the back and over the throttle on the left-hand side. Moving up beside him, she pointed a hand at the trigger on the handle.

"The primary trigger emits a charge; you can punch stuff and send it flying." Reaching past him, she pointed to the button on the throttle, designed to let his thumb rest on it. "The secondary trigger lets you grab things. You can throw them with the primary."

He tried not to breath in her scent too much and come across like some HEV suit wearing pervert. She did smell nice, though. Nicer than anything else he had come across today. Well, maybe not nicer than the crisp scent of a fresh teleportation event, but she was only human.

Pulling back, Alyx was concentrating more on where he was pointing the device than on Gordon himself. And good lord, was he grateful. One more furtive glance in his direction and he was likely to have a coughing fit of epic proportions.

"You can also pull stuff over from a distance." She pointed to a spot above their heads. "Try grabbing a barrel from that ledge up there."

The shadows cast by the floodlights didn't make seeing what she was talking about any easier, but he could barely make out some barrels haphazardly stacked upright on a wooden ledge above them. Bringing up the Gravity Gun, Gordon brought it up to his face as though he were aiming a rifle.

"No, no," Alyx said, laughing as she gently brought his arms down. "Not like a gun. Just… point and shoot."

Nodding, he waited for her to back up before bringing the weapon to bear again. Pointing it as he had been told, he pressed the button on the throttle. With a low hum, the crystal at the front of the device began to glow. The barrel below the one he had been aiming for blasted out towards him, coming to a dead stop in front of the now wobbling device in his hands. The three metal, claw-like fingers had suddenly opened, yellow-white energy dancing between the tips.

With a noise that made Gordon wince, the rest of the barrels came tumbling down, forcing both he and Alyx to back up considerably to avoid the avalanche.

Alyx smiled over at Gordon as the last barrel trundled along, coming to a stop at their feet.

"Do you just wreck stuff wherever you go?"

With a resigned, sad expression, Gordon nodded.

"Yeah," he sighed. He looked back to the barrel that still floated in front of them.

"Oh!" Alyx put a hand over the side of her face. "Sorry. You can release objects by pressing the secondary trigger again. You know, as well as throwing them with the primary."

With a quiet 'ah' and a nod, Gordon pressed the button again, letting the barrel drop with another resounding clang. He looked over to his companion, who smiled.

"Sorry about that. I get used to using this stuff so much, I forget that most people have never seen anything like it before." Her smile changed slightly, and she nodded to an opening in the containers and walkways surrounding them that would take them to the other section of the scrap yard.

"Come on."

Inspecting the Gravity Gun as he walked behind her, he noticed a thick leather strap that had been folded and taped to the underbelly of the device. With a quick tug, he ripped off the black tape and slung the device across his shoulders like a mailman's bag. The tape got stuck to his glove though, and it was one of those annoying bits of tape that stuck to the other hand when one tried to remove it.

He barely acknowledged the large wooden sign that read 'Beware of Dog' while he struggled with the merciless foe between his fingers.

This section of the scrap yard was far bigger, and looked more like it used to be some kind of reservoir judging from the massive pipes protruding from the rock face on his right. Not that Gordon was really paying attention; the damn tape was still irritating him to no end.

Gentle female hands plucked the tape from his finger, screwing up the small scrap of material and tossing it away. Gordon watched it go, wondering how it didn't stick to her hands, and then returned his gaze to Alyx.

In a gesture that delighted Gordon, she acted as though nothing had happened. "Let me call Dog. He loves to play fetch." She turned around and slapped her knees crouching slightly. "Dog! Come!"

Gordon frowned. They had dogs here? Not that he objected; he liked dogs just fine. He was just surprised they had survived whatever apocalyptic hell the Combine had enforced.

At the far end of the canyon - which was about the size of a football field - a large doghouse that looked like it could hold two cows stood vigilantly beside a deteriorating dumpster. From inside, Gordon could see a red light suddenly appear. Within seconds, a monstrous form rolled out, unravelling at the end of the rotation into what Gordon could only describe as the skeleton of a gorilla. After seemingly checking the identity of the caller, the beast started galloping along towards them, using it's enormous arms to yank itself forward while the smaller legs at the back struggled to keep up.

It came to a dusty, skidding stop in front of them, and Gordon took an instinctive step back when it looked like it wouldn't stop. Alyx, however, didn't move a muscle, instead seeming happy enough to throw her arms out like she was greeting a household pet. As the dust settled, Gordon managed to get a good look at Dog.

Although having the basic posture of a gorilla, the robot had a head that was decidedly un-mammalian. Three 'wings' poking out in a triangular formation made up the 'face', while a singular red lens in the middle made up the eye. Thick, three fingered hands fidgeted nervously as Alyx turned to Gordon.

"Gordon, this is Dog."

The red eye stared up at him expectantly, but not judgementally. Gordon gave it a quick wave.

"My dad built him to protect me when I was a kid. First model was about…" she knelt down to about a third the size of Dog as he was now, putting her hand out flat in front of her. "…yae-high, and I've been adding to him ever since."

She turned to the robot, which had what could only be described as a look of abject adoration on its… 'face'. If the thing had had fur, she would have ruffled it with the enthusiastic petting she gave its' head.

"Haven't I boy?"

With a low noise that bordered on affectionate, Dog moved his head into her touch. Gordon frowned.

'His' head? He was thinking of the robot as a 'he' now?

Alyx suddenly burst into life in a way that no doubt excited Dog, but put Gordon on high alert, reaching for a crowbar that wasn't there.

"Okay Dog, let's play some catch!" Dog excitedly nodded and thundered back to his house, heading for the dumpster beside it. Alyx looked back to Gordon as she backed away, heading for a crate nestled in the wall. "You'll need to use the Gravity Gun."

He cocked an curious eyebrow, but deferred asking 'why' in favour of unloading the Gravity Gun and hefting it up in front of him. After fishing around inside the dumpster for a few moments, Dog pulled out a storage crate that was looking somewhat worse for wear. His hand glowing, Dog held the crate above his open palm in a manner similar to the Gravity Gun. With a surprisingly gentle thrust of his arm, Dog sent the crate hurtling through the air towards him in a high arc.

Gordon brought up the Gravity Gun and pressed the secondary trigger. The device glowed and hummed, but the crate's velocity towards him did nothing. He only thought to duck at the last moment, the crate sailing through the spot where his head had been and smashing into pieces on the ground behind him.

Alyx laughed from where she was perched to the side, and Dog did a little victory dance. Trying to hide his scowl so as not to look like a bad sport, Gordon cricked his neck and readied himself, adopting a stance more akin to a tennis player while he waited.

The next crate came at him exactly the same, but this time, Gordon managed to tilt the Gravity Gun in just the right direction to catch the dilapidated box. He gently set it down beside him, not wanting to destroy what looked to be Dog's only playthings. Several crate-tosses later, and Gordon was getting pretty proficient at the whole 'catch' thing.

But apparently, that wasn't enough for Alyx, who seemed intent on forcing him into all manner of weird situations today.

"Dog, go get your ball!"

Dog, meanwhile, seemed ready to continue playing 'throw the crate to Gordon', but only showed the hesitation for a moment before dropping the crate he held in his 'paw' and galloping over to an upside-cylinder just next to Alyx, a large rock weighing it down to the ground. Without a second thought, the robot lifted the boulder off and let it thump to the floor, a mighty cloud of dust billowing out. Gordon tried not to gape at the show of sheer strength.

But then, with a strange, high pitched whirring noise, the cylinder started trundling along, rocking from side to side as though there were something inside. Alyx chuckled away happily as the cylinder bumped up against Gordon time and again, leaving him with nothing to do but back away awkwardly as it followed him.

Unable to contain his excitement any longer, Dog ran over and knocked the cylinder aside, revealing a metallic, football sized… thing that just kept on rolling around at Gordon's feet, as though attracted to him. It had stumps poking out all over it's body, blue light glowing out between the tiles on the devices' surface.

Using his Gravity Gun hand, Dog yanked the ball up towards him, and nodded for Gordon to head further into the canyon, towards his house. A little perturbed that a robot pet was giving him instructions (and that he was following them without question), Gordon jogged down to the other end, keeping an eye on both Dog and his troublesome owner as he went.

To his credit, Dog waited until he was ready before firing the ball into the air, sending it along an arching path that was far too high for Gordon to reach. It bounced against the stacked shipping containers behind him, clanging noisily as it tumbled to the ground. As he used the Gravity Gun to pick up the overfriendly ball, Alyx's laughter echoed into his ears.

"When I told you Dog liked to play fetch, I didn't tell you who'd be fetching, did I?"

Yes. Ha. How droll.

With a forced smile he was sure wasn't necessary (seeing as Alyx was sat so far away she probably wouldn't be able to tell if his beard suddenly fell off, let alone whether he was smiling or not), Gordon pointed the Gravity Gun into the air and fired, sending it hurtling towards his playing companion. Leaping straight up, Dog just barely managed to save it from tumbling over his head. Dog had no hesitation in firing it back to him.

After just a few steps left and right, Gordon started running to his left, grabbing the ball easily this time.

"Ha! Good catch!"

Gordon's smile was genuine this time. And after a few more tries, he was really starting to enjoy himself. True, he was still wearing his Hazard Suit which had blood, grime, dirt and some green stuff that wasn't radioactive but smelt bad anyway smeared all over it, but still…

He was having fun. Something he didn't think he would ever find possible again after sending the entire world to hell three days ago.

"Okay, let's try something different," Alyx announced, instantly attracting Dog's attention as the ball sailed over his head and became wedged between a dumpster behind him and the wall.

"Dog, try and find something bigger."

The horrifying mental image of Dog doing a cannonball through the air towards him flashed across Gordon's mind. He shook it away as Dog thundered past him, checking the dumpster. After a quick pause, Dog gripped the sides of the dumpster tightly, and, with only the slightest of metallic groans, lifted it above his head, turning towards Gordon.

Armed only with his Gravity Gun, Gordon wondered what the hell he could do against a dumpster. He remembered that Alyx said they used it for heavy lifting, but he had his doubts as to _how _heavy it could manage.

Fortunately, Alyx wasn't overly keen on finding out either as she rushed over.

"Dog! No Dog! Put that down!"

The robot looked sheepish for just a moment before suddenly whipping his head up to the sky, letting the dumpster tumble angrily to the ground behind him. Gordon lowered the Gravity Gun as he walked up beside Alyx, looking up to the towering robot in front of them.

"What is it, Dog?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

An explosion rocked the ground.

"Oh my God, what was that?"

Something black and solid rocketed across the sky, and even though he had only been in this world a day, Gordon recognised the shape and sound. It was one of the headcrab rockets. Slowly following it, casting a thin shaft of light ahead of it, one of the floating camera devices made it's way across the canyon area, ignorant of them for the time being.

"Scanners!" Alyx looked to Gordon as another explosion hit. "The Combine's sweeping the area! We've got to get back to the lab. Come on, Gordon!"

She started running, and Gordon was right behind her, wrapping the Gravity Gun around him as they went. Dog's mighty footsteps thundered behind them, merging with the almost constant explosions to a make a continuous deafening roar all around them. As they passed the crate of weapons outside the airlock, Gordon scooped up the revolver, a box of ammunition, a holster and his crowbar.

Dog was the last one to enter the airlock, the doors almost crushing him between them if not for his uncanny speed. Alyx was already punching away at a keypad, looking at a small screen above it with no small measure of desperation. Moving with a speed and efficiency he didn't like to admit he had, Gordon wrapped the belt around his waist and the holster around his hip. The crowbar slotted into the left-hand side of the belt into a spot usually reserved for magazines. He was halfway through loading the revolver when Alyx spoke.

"Dad? It's Alyx, do you read?"

Hunched over and staring desperately out at them, Eli's black and white visage blurred and faded in and out of existence as he spoke. _"Alyx!"_

"What's going on?"

"_Where are you, Alyx?"_

"We're in the scrap yard airlock, stuck in a full auto cycle," Alyx said, her frustration glowing from her eyes as she surveyed the area.

"_Is Gordon still with you?"_

She nodded distractedly. "Yeah, he's right here."

"_Good. I want you to-"_

The lights went out along with the screen, instantly replaced by an emergency red that made Dog look a little sinister. Gordon looked around the room for some kind of escape route while Alyx feverishly worked on the keypad.

"Dad? Dad!"

Gordon finished loading the revolver and clicked it into place. He managed to wedge the box of bullets into another slot reserved for magazines.

The screen came back, and Gordon took notice. Eli suddenly looked even more haggard.

"_Get out of here. Head for the coast. Do not go through Ra-"_

And with that, the screen had had enough, resorting entirely to static to block Alyx from her father.

"Dad? Dad! Damn it!" She slammed an angry palm into the wall beside the screen, but quickly turned to the robot in the room, pointing an angry finger to the airlock door. "Dog, open the airlock, get us out of here."

Not requiring much prompting, the robot slammed elbow first into the door, denting it on his first go. He brought his mighty metal arms down on the doors again and again, warping them with each blow.

"Hurry! Now! Tear it apart if you have to, just _get it open!"_

Dog's face seemed to perk up when Alyx said the word 'tear', and the robot slammed it's hand between the airlock doors, pulling them out in opposite directions. After another few seconds, he managed to open the smallest of gaps between the doors. Alyx ducked down.

"That's enough, Dog."

Gordon looked to her. _That's enough?_

Without pause, she managed to crawl through the miniscule gap, calling to him as she went. "Come on, Gordon!"

He tried to follow in earnest, but the HEV suit didn't allow it, never mind the bulky Gravity Gun strapped to his back. A quick glance up to Dog was apparently understood, and the massive robot managed to slam the right-hand door fully open. Gordon slipped underneath the mighty arm as he saw Alyx disappear around the corner at the end of the corridor.

"Come on!"

Revolver in hand, Gordon sprinted off after her.

A mighty, thunderous crash from around the corner was quickly followed by a swirling, billowing cloud of dust. Gordon increased his pace. An old fashioned alarm bell sounded, reminding Gordon for just a second of the fire drills back at school. He rounded the corner, and saw that the entire corridor had caved in. Light seeped in through cracks, but aside from a gap on the right-hand side, there was nothing Gordon could see.

The whine of a CP's radio flat lining echoed through the corridor. Gunfire bounced along the walls.

Familiar hands grasped onto the rubble from the other side, and Alyx's face came into view. Gordon clambered up what little rubble he could to meet her.

"Gordon, you need to get out of here!" Shaking his head, Gordon opened his mouth to object. A gentle hand snaked through the rubble to rest on his gloved fist, clenched around his gun.

"I can't leave my father."

And that was that. Looking into her eyes, Gordon knew there was nothing more to be said. He clamped his mouth shut, only a solemn nod for acknowledgement.

A gravely voice echoed down to them. "Return to the Void!"

Green lightning flashed down the corridor behind Alyx, surrounding them with a brilliant green for just a few moments before flickering away. A flat line from the opposite end of the corridor soon followed. As Alyx spoke, Gordon saw a Vortigaunt sprint past, intense red eyes scanning the area as it went.

"Dog! Take Gordon to the Ravenholm tunnel, then circle around and try and meet up with me. Hurry!"

Gordon only then remembered that Dog was even there. He looked back to the robot, then to Alyx.

She was gone.

He sighed, and turned back to Dog, who seemed to be wearing the same look of resigned sadness that Gordon had come to accept as the norm for himself. More gunshots rang out behind them from both sides. He could hear rebels shouting orders to each other, CP radios chattering and the occasional, distant explosion. His hand clenched tighter around the gun in his hand, the material of the gloves creaking from the strain.

He should be in there. He _knew _he should be in there.

Dog turned and tumbled along down the corridor, heading back the way they came. After only a quick glance back, Gordon sprinted off after him. The robot took him back to the Ravenholm entrance that before had seemingly filled Alyx with fear. And now he was being told to take that route out of here.

Lovely.

An explosion sounded in the distance, this one louder than the others. Dog spared only a glance back before wedging his fingers beneath the blast door blocking the way and effortlessly slamming it up into the ceiling. Gordon slipped through without incident, and turned just as his robot companion dropped the door, a cloud of dust bubbling up to meet his gaze.

He took a breath, and smiled. "Good boy."

Through the windows of the blast door, Dog offered him one more sad look before turning and running off down the corridor, disappearing from sight in just a few seconds.

Gordon closed his eyes.

He sighed, turned around, and moved on.

The corridor got darker as he went along, and soon he was forced to flick on his flashlight. A turn in the corridor led him to a stairway going straight down in front of him, blocked by all manner of household furniture from cabinets and cupboards to old, rotting sofas. Gordon slipped the revolver back into its' holster and brought the Gravity Gun around. Making sure he had a tight grip, Gordon cricked his neck before letting loose with the primary charge.

A bolt of yellow energy blasted from the crystal at the front, knocking everything in his way just a little bit further down. Gordon stumbled back from the shock of the blast. Adjusting his glasses, Gordon steadied himself before firing again. After a few more blasts, he managed to create a small way forward at the top, and began crawling over the less than whole furniture.

At the bottom floor, an ankle deep layer of water had emerged. Gordon didn't know how or why, but he just went with it. Cardboard boxes and out of date newspapers floated around him as he waded into the next room. A camera on the wall blinked red, and Gordon surmised it was offline.

On his right, what looked like the bottom of an old elevator shaft seemed to lead up, a ladder helpfully placed before him. He stepped inside, and something landed on the wooden planks making up the floor of the shaft, shattering one and sinking beneath the water before bobbing up again. Gordon, hand touching his crowbar, leant forward to investigate.

A headcrab. He stretched his gaze upwards, but saw nothing but darkness above him. Adjusting his glasses, he got climbing. Hopefully there wouldn't be too many headcrabs where that one had come from. After a rather long climb (during which Gordon had to remind himself numerous times not to look down), he reached the top, clambering out into the semi-darkness of the corridor beyond.

His flashlight was at half-power now. If this place was going to be this dark all the time, he could have a potential problem. The corridors were made of old, red wood, reminding Gordon of the stereotypical barns from movies. Usually alien invasions.

Incomprehensible graffiti littered the walls as he went, the only thing he understood being 'bring a gun'.

It didn't engender feelings of hope and goodwill. All the same, Gordon pulled out his revolver and held it in front of him. He turned another corner and wondered what Ravenholm would look like, and if he would ever walk out of there alive.

It would be a shame never to play catch with Dog again.

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(A/N: I particularly enjoyed writing this one, mostly because of all the Gordon/Alyx interaction. Hell, for Gordon interaction period. So often it's just him doing _stuff_, and that becomes a bit of a challenge to write sometimes. So yeah, now Gordon can't recharge the HEV suit. But I felt it was a good way to keep him in jeopardy; being able to recharge to full strength on a regular basis works for a game, but as far as an actual story goes, it kinda kills the tension.

Anyway, reviews please!)


	6. We Don't Go to Ravenholm'

-1Disclaimer: I don't own _Half-Life._

_**Welcome to City 17**_

_**Chapter Six: "We Don't Go To Ravenholm…"**_

It was far too dark. Only the flashlight from his HEV suit allowed Gordon much of a view of anything, a single circle of light ahead of him as a guide. The corridors he walked were thin and closed off. Gordon wasn't really the claustrophobic type, but he soon found himself breathing just that little bit faster.

Turning a corner, he found himself walking out onto a grassy courtyard, the pale moon above giving enough illumination that he could switch off the flashlight. Wooden, dilapidated houses ran along either side of him, none extending above two floors. A metal sign clanked beneath his boot as he stepped on it, pointing the bent side up into the air. Looking down, he saw a green sign with the words 'Ravenholm' printed in big white letters. It seemed so… pedestrian.

It made him feel somewhat sad. The idea that this was once a normal, bland town with green signs and wooden houses and trees and playgrounds… reduced to this. Gordon's hand slipped to the revolver attached to his hip, the handle of the weapon comforting him a little.

He made his way forward, ducking beneath a bare, dying tree as he approached the only open house in the area. Gordon's eyes were drawn to another tree planted in front of the house, and the sickening 'ornament' that hung from it. A pair of legs dangled precariously from a branch, clothed in bloodstained denim. A rope tied knotted securely to the branch was wrapped around what remained of the waist.

Gordon didn't want to think about what kind of people would do such a thing deliberately.

He turned back to the house and bumped face first into a zombie, the headcrab nestled on it's head squirming from the contact. Gordon backed up, drawing the revolver as he went. He fired, sending the zombie reeling back and onto the deck in front of the house.

The echo from the weapon took a few seconds to dissipate before once again leaving Gordon in silence. The haunting call of a crow fluttered above his head. Revolver in hand, Gordon went to one of the two doorways leading into the house, which he guessed was a supply shed. Some quick swipes of the crowbar removed thee planks of wood nailed across the entrance.

Slipping the tool back into his belt, Gordon stopped at the doorway on the other side of the room, where a bloody torso now rest on a circular saw blade, impaled to the wall. The face had been almost torn apart, the flesh hanging from the bones like the peelings from a fruit. His face was frozen in a horrified scream, long, clawed fingers clutching at his head as though trying to forcibly tear something out. Or pull something off.

In the queasy, yellow light of the shed, Gordon could make out that there was blood everywhere. It streaked up the walls like a messy child's painting. Some was even splattered across the ceiling.

He hadn't felt the urge to vomit since three days ago at Black Mesa, but this place was bringing the old feelings back. Gordon closed his eyes and swallowed loudly, taking several deep breaths before continuing on into the room beyond. The nausea remained.

The next room was no better, zombified remains slumped in various corners of the room, blood smeared over the wood, never to be removed. Gordon wondered if anyone survived. A darkened corridor next to him yielded some light at the end, signalling the way. The weary planking creaked under his boots.

A grunt came from up ahead. Gordon whipped around to the source of the noise. The zombies were getting up. Zombies knew how to play dead? Weren't they technically dead already? Gordon pushed the debate aside.

They were slow enough that the revolver took care of them, taking him down to one bullet. His hand instantly rifled into the box wedged in his belt, producing the box of bullets he had snatched from Black Mesa East.

Gordon found three bullets inside. He _thought _the box had felt hollow, but the crashing explosions and gunfire at the time had been a little distracting, to say the least. So here he was in Ravenholm, which seemed to be every zombie's home away from home, with four bullets, a crowbar, and a Gravity Gun.

Gordon cocked a curious eyebrow and thought about the device. Potentially, it _could _be powerful weapon, providing the user didn't care what happened to the target.

Which, coincidentally, he didn't. Still, it was strictly a last resort. Gordon would prefer to be holding a gun in these kinds of situations any day. The realisation that he preferred a weapon to a tool of science depressed him, so Gordon cautiously began creeping into the corridor beyond.

A noise sounding like someone coming up for air after too long underwater sounded from around the corner. Flicking on his flashlight once more, Gordon was treated to the sight of another zombie lumbering around the corner, limping awkwardly as it slowly made it's way towards him. The vertical maw that made up the chest made it impossible to tell what gender it had been before.

Gordon didn't want to know. The more he thought about gender and identity, the harder it was to kill these things. Think like a scientist. Logical, unbiased.

More zombies were coming. He could hear them moaning, pleading for help in their own tortured, muffled way. Gordon didn't know if they were fully aware underneath or not. But he _had _seen the after-effects, impaled to a wall, clawing at yourself, screaming even in death…

He blinked, and shook his head.

The barrel conveniently placed beside the exit of the corridor appealed to the scientist in him; particularly the flammable label that had been hastily plastered on the side. Gordon hit it with his first try, ducking around the corner to avoid the flames. A chain reaction of explosions sounded around the corner, and he heard the zombies snarl half-heartedly as they died, their bodies thumping sickeningly against the walls from the force of the blasts.

A single, continuous moan carried on, however. Muffled screaming. Tightening his grip on his gun, Gordon whirled around the corner. Completely consumed by flame, a zombie lurched towards him at an even slower pace, arms outstretched and flailing as whatever was left of the person underneath burned.

Another shot, and the zombie was dead, the bullet knocking it forcefully into the wall of the corridor. Rather than wait for the flames to die down and for the smell to reach his nostrils, Gordon ran across the burning remains, covering his mouth and nose with his forearm. The smell of dried blood and whatever else was on his HEV suit wasn't much better.

He followed the corridor around, revolver drawn but knowing all too well that he only had two bullets left. Two bullets, and a zombie village.

This was going to be a good night.

The corridor led him outside into a courtyard, the left-hand side blanketed in thick, overgrown grass. A nightmare of a tree sprouted from the middle of the 'garden', looking as monstrous as the inhabitants of the town. Looking to his right, Gordon saw an odd, homemade contraption standing in the middle of the pathway to the next building.

It looked like a car engine or small turbine. Atop it, attached to the centre of whatever made up the base, were two rectangular, jagged fan blades. They were about as long as he was tall. Fresh blood glistened on them, merging with dried, old blood. A large handle poked out of the side of the device, ready for use.

As he made his way down the stone steps and into the courtyard, a loud bellow of a voice made him duck down instinctively, gun frantically waving around in an attempt to spot whoever it was. No-one.

"For it was said, they had become like these peculiar demons which dwell in matter, but in whom no light may be found."

The voice was deep, guttural. A thick accent, too, possibly Russian. Dialects weren't really his thing. Now, if the mysterious voice had been talking about the Curves of Quickest Descent…

A zombie moan attracted his attention, and Gordon looked to steps on the far side of the fan device, which seemed to be the only exit available to him. Two zombies stumbled down, looking almost identical thanks to the Combine denim.

He trained the revolver on them for a few moments before thoughtfully holstering the weapon. Moving quickly down to the device, he yanked down the lever, and, with a rusty clattering noise from inside, the fans started rotating. Gordon stayed down. Oblivious or uncaring to the danger, the zombies kept on limping his way.

As soon as the fan hit them, they became a red haze for the briefest of moments before their torsos tumbled backwards through the air before hitting he ground with dull thud. The legs remained standing for the briefest of moments before collapsing to the ground. Gordon crawled around the other side of the fan, feeling no need to slither his way across disembodied legs.

When he reached the far side of the blades, Gordon tried to stand when something thin and wiry wrapped itself around his ankle, sending him slamming chest first into the ground. His head bobbed up and down uncontrollably as he impacted with the solid cobblestone floor, his glasses getting knocked to a jaunty angle by the impact. Adjusting his glasses and turning over, Gordon looked down to see the torso of a zombie pulling him in, sounding more than slightly angry over the loss of his legs.

He pulled out his revolver and silenced the beast.

One bullet left.

Gordon clambered away and made his way up the stairs, keeping his gun by his side, even though it was steadily becoming a futile gesture. From what sounded like above him, the same deep, haunting voice echoed out.

"May they become like dust before the wind! May the angel of the Lord pursue them!"

Ah. A religious man. Gordon never really had much use for religion. Even as a child, it always seemed so pointless to him. Not that he tried to correct those who _did _follow religion; he wasn't one of _those _kind of people. But facts and logic and evidence had always been his 'religion'. As it were.

An open doorway on his right led into a small warehouse. Another of the fan devices stood ready on the right hand side, as well as numerous explosive containers dotted around the room. Zombies were slumped all around him, either dead or pretending to be so. His boot made the slightest of taps as it hit a loose piece of wood, and the room exploded with grunts and snarls. Gordon took aim at the explosive barrel closest to the centre of the room, and, backing up into the corridor from whence he came, fired.

The explosions went on for some time while Gordon waited outside, back pressed to the concrete wall. An occasional blast blew a hole in the thin wood of the warehouse. He thought he saw a clawed arm arc through the air before disappearing over the top of some shadowy houses in the distance.

And then the explosions were done. Gordon holstered the revolver and hefted the Gravity Gun around until it was in front of him.

Well. Here went nothing.

The warehouse was a mess, the walls blackened and charred, moonlight shining in through holes in the ceiling. The explosions were so sudden, the zombies didn't even get a chance to bleed. A hole in the warehouse wall ahead of him led into an alleyway below. Gordon hopped out, the floor only a few feet below him. Casting a wary eye around the tall enclosed space before proceeding, Gordon continued on before turning a corner to his right.

The inferno in front of him made him wince. It was enormous, standing guard in front of an even bigger building. Metal stakes and frames had been wedged into the bonfire, the bodies of zombies hanging limply from them as they roasted in silence. Three zombies lumbered around the rotting corpse of a car beside him, and he started to back up, looking desperately for something the Gravity Gun could fire at them. All he could see were cardboard boxes and some soda cans.

Oh yeah. Those zombies would be quaking in their boots when he unleashed a used can of Breen's Private Reserve on them.

With a thunderous crash, a door flew open on the building behind the towering pyre, light from behind the figure obscuring him from Gordon's view. A guttural laugh bordering on psychotic echoed throughout the courtyard, and Gordon watched as the figure took aim with a long object that he hoped was a rifle.

The head of the zombie closest to Gordon exploded, tossing the ex-person forward and tumbling past him. It's companion quickly followed, crashing against the side of the car before collapsing to the ground. The third ended the same way. Gordon ignored the blood that had sprayed against his boots and slowly made his way forward, his eyes attached to the figure stood above him.

"What, who is this? Another life to save?" The figure, who Gordon could surmise was bald and perhaps a little bit paunchy in the middle, thrust a commanding finger into the air.

"I'll keep my eye on you! More than that, I cannot promise!"

His piece said, Gordon's grandiose saviour turned and disappeared back into the light behind him. Somewhat at a loss for what to say, Gordon let the man go, fairly confident that he would cross paths with him again. The crazy ones always came back.

Shaking his head, Gordon took the only path available to him, every other junction blocked by the horrendous flames licking against the sky in front of him. The cobble pavement slanted upwards as it took him to another alleyway coming up on his left, this one, too, engulfed in flame. Around the corner from the alleyway, a tank of what Gordon assumed was gas was attached to the wall, the brackets holding it in place looking worryingly homemade.

A thin white pipe sprouted from the side, leading around the corner and into the alleyway. Gordon walked to the tank and turned the wheel that he assumed turned off the gas that he could hear hissing malignantly. After a few squeaky turns, the sound of gas vanished, the flames quickly dissipating into nothingness. Gordon frowned. That seemed… easy.

The thick red switch staring at him from the wall made him curious, but rather than risk turning it and finding out what other random trap it might set off, Gordon continued down the alleyway, holding the Gravity Gun in front of him. For all the good it would do.

From around the corner, a now familiar (and somewhat frustrating) grunt echoed to meet Gordon. Slowing to a cautious pace, Gordon crept around the corner. In the alleyway beyond, resting against the fence that blocked the path, half a dozen zombies were slowly dragging themselves to their feet, some of them merely torsos crawling their way towards him.

Seeing nothing he could use as an effective weapon, Gordon turned and ran, heading to the mouth of the alleyway where the gas tank was waiting. He turned the wheel, the gas angrily spurting out from the pipe running along. The zombies didn't seem to notice as they stumbled and limped towards him, their moans merging into a sea of noise as they approached.

He looked to the round, red switch that had attracted his attention earlier. With a shrug, he gave it a severe turn. Sparks flew down the alleyway walls. The burst of flame forced Gordon to throw himself back to avoid getting his glasses melted onto his face. As he slammed onto his back, he was both grateful that the Gravity Gun was so sturdy (Eli hated it when his things were broken) and cursing it for being so solid as his back bent around it, sending him tumbling backwards until he was on his front.

Gordon kept his face pressed to the floor as he allowed the pain to sink in.

"Ow."

The pained moans of the zombies ahead of him barely registered as he hefted himself to his feet, pressing his hand to his knee to push himself up. As he approached the tank to switch off the gas, he listened for more, waiting for the moans to die down before he turned the wheel and banished the pyre in front of him. After a few minutes of waiting, he was satisfied and switched it off.

All that remained were blackened, charred messes, some spread across the opposite wall of the alleyway, pressed into it by the force of the flames exploding into them. A ladder on the fence around the corner made traversing it simple. Instead of going for his Gravity Gun, Gordon instead slipped his crowbar from where it rest against his waist, ironically feeling more power from holding a metal stick than he did a device of immeasurable gravitational energy.

It was often the simple things in life that were the most satisfying. Who was it that said that? Gordon was sure he had heard someone at Black Mesa saying it. Or was it his mother?

A painful twang in his chest made him pause for a moment. His family. A part of him was glad that his parents had died before all of this. Another part… well, everyone would want a chance to see their parents again. But Richard, his brother, was still alive.

_Had_ been.

_Had been _alive. Before the Black Mesa Incident. Before hell-on-Earth. He could very well be dead by now. Even though he and Gordon hadn't seen eye to eye on many things (which always amused Barney to no end - _'How could someone as quiet as you disagree with someone?'_), Gordon had no desire to see the man dead. Mainly for the fact Richard had been raising a baby girl.

He hoped they were alive. He hoped they were alive so very much.

His grip tightened on his crowbar as he rounded the corner. As he went, a piercing, echoing howl filled the air, like a wolf in it's death throes. Framed by the moonlight in front of him, Gordon saw _something _leap from the rooftop of one warehouse to another, flailing wildly in midair as it went. It was skinny, it's frame even more slight than Gordon had been in his teenage years. But the bulbous shape of a headcrab was obvious, even from this distance. But, as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone.

Gordon took a step forward, and something else came to his ears. A snarl, nasal and vicious, getting louder and louder. He heard the light tapping of bony hands as he watched a zombie unlike any he had seen hurtle up some steps before him, galloping on all fours like an animal. All of the flesh from the host had been torn away, muscle and sinew and bone shining in the harsh moonlight as it roared it's way towards him.

He brought his crowbar up, preparing himself to move. The zombie leapt far faster than he could have imagined, bowling headlong into him and sending them both tumbling back down the alleyway. The Gravity Gun embedded itself in the small of his back as he impacted with the floor, and Gordon yelped out in pain as they rolled across the gritty, cobblestone path beneath them.

The headcrab atop the zombie, it's legs longer and thinner than usual, clawed at his face, almost deliberately trying to scrape his glasses from his face. Every time it leant forward to attack, Gordon could see the helpless host beneath, eyes white, the face contorted in a continual scream. There was definitely nothing human underneath anymore.

Feeling somewhat more resolved by the fact, Gordon had no problem with stabbing the long end of the crowbar into the belly of the creature. The incredibly thin body gave little resistance, and the crowbar went straight through, blood spurting out of the zombie's back like a fountain. It's deafening roars remaining constant, the creature was instantly on it's feet, backing away from Gordon as he got to his feet. It bounced up and down like a playful dog, and Gordon brought the Gravity Gun up towards him.

Aiming it at the crowbar, he waited for the zombie to leap at him again, ducked, and whirled around while the beast was still in midair, it's back to him. Gordon activated the secondary trigger. The hooked end of the crowbar ripped through the belly of the zombie as it tore through the air, coming to an abrupt stop in front of him. He deactivated the device and grabbed the crowbar before it could fall to the ground.

The zombie, meanwhile, ignoring the damage the injury had caused, stumbled around to look at him. Gordon sliced the crowbar upwards, stripping the headcrab from the host in one swift blow. It thudded against the wall, dead, the ex-human beneath dying instantly.

The eyes stayed open, and from what Gordon could see, there were no eyelids left for him to close. Gordon settled for turning and getting on with his job. And that job, right now, was to meet up with Alyx. After that… he would do whatever else needed to be done.

The next open doorway revealed a normal, chubby headcrab waiting for him. It leapt for his head, and Gordon slammed it into the ground with his crowbar. The room, oddly, was full of old washing machines and ovens, the power cords long since ripped apart. Gordon wondered what the purpose of the electronic utility gathering was. Shrugging, he made his way through and to a darkened stairway. All of the windows were either blanked out by dirt and grime or blocked by planks of wood, the darkness almost all consuming.

Gordon slowly crept up the stairs, painfully aware of how loudly the wood creaked underneath his boots. No-one (and no_thing_) attempted to bother him on his way up, and Gordon quickly found himself pushing his way through a door that led him to the roof of the building. There was nothing much there. Walking to the ledge (and mindful of any zombies who would like to push him off), Gordon looked down, spotting something that made him cock a curious eyebrow.

Wooden walkways, held up by metallic struts attached to the building he stood on and the (higher) building opposite. They led to another building, creating a trail of white, rotting wood to take him to the dingy attic area of the warehouse in front of him.

"Well done, brother!"

The boom of the man's voice made Gordon lurch back from the ledge and into a defensive posture. Finally, he recognised the familiar shape of his guardian angel, silhouetted by the light coming from behind him. He was still hidden in shadow, his features incomprehensible. A hole in the roof of the taller building opposite Gordon gave the man plenty of room to gesture wildly.

"Make free use of my traps! But, be careful not to fall in them yourself," he chuckled, because clearly, Gordon decapitating himself with a large rusty fan was amusing. The man's head flickered up to somewhere above Gordon.

"Behind you!"

He aimed and fired, the gunshot echoing starkly in the quiet town as Gordon whirled on his heel. From atop the door from which Gordon had emerged, one of the thin, wiry headcrabs thumped to the ground, a large bullet hole gaping in it's front. Gordon looked back to his companion, nodding his thanks.

The man returned the gesture. "In Ravenholm, you do well to be vigilant."

And with that helpful nugget of advice, the man turned and went back into his building, his footsteps creaking on floorboards as he retreated.

Gordon let the silence of Ravenholm surround him for a moment. Looking down, he saw that the white painted wood of the 'walkway' was thinner than he had first assumed. Sighing, he tucked his crowbar away, and leapt from the roof. His feet plunged straight through the wood, and Gordon scrambled to grab onto the metal girders holding them aloft.

His gaze instinctively travelling down, Gordon was somewhat impressed to find that he had traversed five floors in his little stairway jaunt. It also occurred to him that falling from that height would hurt a lot, HEV suit or no. Clenching his jaw, Gordon heaved himself up, and, after a few shaky mistrials (his arms were never exactly the stuff of body-builders), he managed to get back up on top. Very slowly, and very, _very _aware of how high up he was, Gordon traversed the rest of the walkway as though he were on a tightrope.

When he reached the building ahead, he collapsed inside, only now noticing that he had been holding his breath. His heart pounding in his ears, Gordon got to his feet and opened the door to get (hopefully) closer to the ground. A hole in the planking below gave him that opportunity, offering him a view into the room below. The lurching grunt of zombies came to his ears, and Gordon poked his head over the ledge to see two zombies and a whole nest of headcrabs waddling around.

Gordon looked around for something he could use.

Gordon assumed the explosive barrels and gas canisters were the strange man's way of setting traps. Hefting the Gravity Gun around from where it lay on his back, he aimed it at the nearest barrel and brought it to him. The Gun hummed as he brought the barrel around over the hole, and let it drop with a gentle nudge of the secondary trigger. Next, he scooped up a gas canister with the device and fired it at the nearest zombie beneath him.

It exploded into flames, screaming wildly as it stumbled about the room, eventually, settling on the explosive barrel as a means of relieving the pain. Gordon leapt back through the doorway as the explosion widened the hole in the floor.

After counting out ten seconds, Gordon pushed himself to his feet and wandered back inside, Gravity Gun in front of him. Peeking over the edge once more, he was treated to the sight of charred and crispy zombies with a side order of headcrabs.

Lord, he was sounding like Barney again. He had thought that he would stop thinking up Barney-isms now that he had found him alive and well. But no, his inner Calhoun was still alive and well.

Gordon cricked his neck and leapt down to the floor below. The wood beneath his feet creaked irritably at the sudden impact, no doubt under enough stress after the explosion. Gordon decided not to tempt fate and made his way through the open doorway, heading into the open space beyond and down the stairs. The place looked like a rudimentary infirmary; old wooden tables laid out in rows on either side of him. Two of the tables were taken up with bodies (and dead, ex-zombie bodies at that). The rest were reserved for large metal hooks and horrifically big razorblades, looking like nightmarish Frisbees.

From the stairs in the right-hand corner of the room, Gordon heard more zombies. Bringing the Gravity Gun around, he brought one of the razor blades to him, and walked to the top of the stairs. Literally a dozen zombies were lumbering up towards him. Gordon aimed and fired, sending the blade slicing through more than half of their number. The rest, all of them at the back and saved from the onslaught, struggled to stumble their way over their fallen comrades.

Gordon pointed the Gravity Gun at another saw blade and repeated the process, this volley removing all resistance. One of the zombies must have caught the blade in the neck, because a now homeless headcrab wandered around in the wooden corridor below, looking slightly confused. But then it saw Gordon and started waddling towards him, front claws brought up. Using the Gravity Gun again, Gordon flattened it with a metal hook.

"Oh, look," he said, grinning to nobody. "A new toy."

He headed down the stairs and around the corner, coming to another open doorway, this one taking him to an alleyway outside. Hopping down, the consistent thrumming of an engine attracted his attention to the mouth of the empty alleyway on his left. On a sturdy wooden table, an engine simply sat, trundling along as though busy inside the hood of a car. A lever connected to the engine brought his gaze to the metal rope attached to the other side. At the very top of the two buildings surrounding Gordon, the rope bent over a wheel, leading down and then splitting off into the four directions to hold the weight of an old, disused car.

Gordon's eyebrow was now well and truly cocked, and threatened to stay there forever until more zombie attracted his attention, wandering towards him from afar. Looking around, he found nothing the Gravity Gun could throw at them. However… he looked at the contraption in front of him.

He smiled.

Slowly as he pleased, he walked to the engine and wrapped his hand around the lever. He waited until the zombies were firmly situated inside the shadow of the car above them before he slammed it down. The car fell instantly, crushing the zombies in it's path into the cobblestone ground beneath them. Automatically, the lever started making it's way back up, the car doing the same. Gordon's amazed expression faded at the bloody mess beneath the car.

There was another car hung between two building ahead of him, a similar engine setup waiting for him. He also saw the walkways attached to the buildings around it, the car making a stepping stone of sorts between two buildings. The zombies attempting to wander through the alleyway towards him also got some of his attention.

Gordon ran to the engine and yanked the lever down, watching the car slam the first of the zombie group into the pavement. He clambered onto the car, settling into a perch on the top rather than the hood. With an uneasy jolt, the car started to lift, and Gordon wrapped a gloved hand around the point above his head where the ropes were conjoined. Finally, he reached the top of his journey, and with caution very unbefitting for the saviour of mankind (ha), he stumbled onto the walkway sticking out of the building on his right.

Ahead of him, he saw that the walkway led to the side of another building and a shattered hole of a window. A figure poked it's head up from the roof of the building, and Gordon brought up the Gravity Gun defensively. It was his friend again.

"Better and better! I am Father Grigori," he announced, his name accompanied by a grand wave of his arm. "You have already met-" he chortled, "-my congregation!"

He turned and left, the once small laugh breaking into a full-on wave of hysteria as his voice got further and further away.

Gordon sighed. A psychotic priest. He felt safe already.

He unsteadily followed the 'walkway' to the window and clambered inside. A dilapidated door led him into another corridor, and Gordon found himself travelling through another shadowy, pale building, the occasional grunt of a zombie the only warning he ever seemed to get before something leapt out of the darkness at him. The Gravity Gun came in rather handy, and Gordon quickly got used to the idea of ripping radiators from walls and firing them at top speed into his enemies.

And to think he had thought it would just get in his way.

Eventually he came to a tall stairway, murky blues and faded greens pasted across the walls and banisters. No blood spattered everywhere, though. Gordon always found that to be a good thing as far as building decoration went. The less of that 'someone died here recently' vibe, the better.

Moving as quietly as the creaky steps would allow, Gordon made his way up to the first floor, the dirty, blacked out windows making it very difficult to tell when the staircase itself was actually finished. As such, the tip of his boot caught on the top step, sending him fumbling for a good stance as he reached the first floor. A gloved hand shot out to steady himself against the wall, which instead ended up grabbing onto a wooden plank, one of many that had been erected to block off a doorway.

Shaking his head, Gordon hefted himself upright and looked to where his hand now rested. Several spindly finger snaked through the gap between planks, tapping down on his hand. Gordon looked into the face of a zombie. He lurched backwards and whirled the Gravity Gun to the radiator on the wall beside him. It came off with a loud wrenching noise just as the zombie demolished the planks of wood with a single downward swipe of both of it's arms, splinters and chunks of wood spraying over it and him.

Gordon pressed the trigger, vaulting the radiator into the zombie and crunching it against the wall of the small room beyond. With a final, dying snarl, Gordon was assured that the zombie was no longer a threat - headcrab included - and resumed his journey up the stairs. The dark, shadowy building eventually brought him up through a small hatch, hidden in the abandoned loft area, the only items stored in it open and crushed boxes, paper strewn everywhere.

Opening the hatch with a loud clang that he was sure every zombie in the town noticed, Gordon clambered up the ladder to stand on the roof of the building. In the distance, the not quite full moon blared down on Ravenholm, giving Gordon his first truly clarified look of the place. It wasn't pretty. Dark red brickwork and wooden buildings were now collapsing under their own weight. The town looked like it was dying.

In the distance, Gordon could see several hills behind what looked to be a church, the blank white stone and rounded architecture of the building contrasting heavily with the harsh, dark angles of the rest of the town.

"Here, brother!"

Drawing his attention to the building diagonally left of his own, Gordon saw Father Grigori emerge, the rifle in his hands seeming somewhat thicker than it was before. Light from the room behind him still obscured his features, although it wasn't as difficult to make out the messy stubble and worn clothing.

The priest beckoned him forth. "Come closer."

Gordon looked to the huge gap between buildings, but instead of pointing out this flaw he merely walked to the ledge, suddenly very wary of how high up he was.

"You've stirred up hell!" Grigori announced. "Man after my own heart. Here, I have a more suitable gun for you. You will need it. Catch!"

And so, with as little warning as that, the good Father tossed the weapon through the air. To no-one's surprise but his own, Gordon managed to catch it with his first try. True, it was with both arms and ended up looking like he was cradling the shotgun like a baby, but still… he caught it. For someone as lacking in hand-to-eye co-ordination as he was, that was a major accomplishment.

Inspecting the weapon, Gordon realised that it was the same type of shotgun he had used at Black Mesa. Good old Martha.

Grigori nodded emphatically. "Good. Now, keep it close. I have left ammunition all around the town; _they _do not seem to find much interest in anything without…" He grumbled a little, as though uncomfortable with the sentence. "…flesh."

Gordon looked the weapon up and down before finally giving the pump action a healthy yank. The shell casing popped out of the side and bounced hollowly against the ground. It felt good, having something so familiar and yet so powerful in his arms. Not that Black Mesa had ever made him feel safe.

"My advice to you is; aim for the head." The priest tapped a finger against his temple, as though Gordon would have trouble remembering what a head was.

Just as Gordon was nodding his understanding, something metallic fell over somewhere in the distance. Grigori put up a silencing hand.

"Hush… They come." Casting his gaze slowly about the town, Grigori suddenly settled on Gordon and brought up his rifle.

Eyes darting about like an animal, Gordon wasted no time dropping to the floor as his companion's rifle boomed throughout the town. Looking over his shoulder, he found one of the fast, skeletal zombies splayed inertly across the ground, a smattering of blood where the headcrab used to be. Gordon hefted himself to his feet.

"Thank you."

Grigori just nodded. "There is no rest in Ravenholm. Move on and I will meet you at the church."

With that, Grigori faded back into the building, becoming one with the light inside until he was gone. It certainly made him look holy, Gordon would give him that. Another zombified howl rang through the streets, and Gordon started looking for a way forward to the church in the distance. It was only a few streets over; he didn't estimate it would take him that long. As far as distance went, anyway.

Opposite and below his building - but not so far down that it would hurt him _too _much - an open water tower waited for him, half full. A ladder waited for him, extended down to the halfway point of the tank to allow easy exit. After one more look around for zombie activity, Gordon backed up several steps before sprinting to the ledge of the building and propelling himself off. As he tumbled through the air, wind whistling in his ears, Gordon only then remembered to grab onto is glasses. Blurry zombies he _didn't _need, thank you very much.

He landed with a resounding splash, the biting cold of the water shocking his face. Moving quickly, he managed to emerge from the water and latched onto the ladder, tugging himself up with the shotgun nestled firmly under his arm. It took him up to a metal walkway (one of the few in this town that didn't look like it had been put together with duct tape and old park benches), which he followed to the roof of another building, a door taking him inside.

A zombie howl assaulted his ears, and he didn't even need to turn to know how close they were. He slammed the door open shoulder first and whipped it shut behind him, pressing back against it. Two very solid zombies collided with the door, making it bounce slightly. They seemed to give up after just the one attempt, which made Gordon a little wary. Shotgun clenched in gloved hands, Gordon took in the room.

There was a lot of light coming in from the windows in the ceiling, and-

Gordon looked up to the windows in the ceiling.

The _windows_. In the ceiling.

"Damn it."

His previous two zombie playmates came crashing down through the glass, shards tumbling into the middle of the room. From where Gordon was stood he was spared any of the shower, although he wasn't too keen on the idea of falling over and getting his face pushed into it. He wasn't too sure if HEV suits could regenerate eyes with glass lodged in them.

Both zombies launched themselves at him with matching roars. Bringing the shotgun up, Gordon blasted the left zombie in the head, sending it flipping back into a heap against the wall opposite. The right zombie barrelled into him headfirst, sending them smashing through the thin wooden door and skidding onto the roof behind it. Gordon tried to bring the shotgun up, but found it awkwardly trapped, pointing at the creature's thin belly. He fired, the force of the blast ripping through the torso and throwing the zombie's two halves in different directions.

He was on his feet in an instant, heading for the door and having no desire to inspect his handiwork. Something sharp slashed at his ankle, and, with a echoing yell, Gordon fell face front to the wooden floor of the room ahead. Awkwardly rolling, he saw that the still alive torso of the zombie was scrambling for him, snarling and hissing all the way. Gordon brought up the shotgun again and blasted it again, this time propelling it off the roof. Dead or not, it wasn't getting at him any time soon.

Taking only a few moments to rest on his back and stare up at the ceiling, he hefted himself to his feet and looked around the room once more. Around a corner coming up on his left was the entrance to what looked like a cargo elevator, the view through the latticework gate and the bars of the elevator shaft indicating a way down to the ground. A car burned brightly in the courtyard below, lighting up a gap in a fence on the far side of the courtyard. Looked like a way to the church to Gordon.

He slapped his palm on the big red button that would summon the elevator, and started looking around the room. In the corner he saw a red, worn box of shotgun shells. Eyes darting around warily like a wild animal, Gordon crept over to where the box lay on the other side of the room and started loading.

By the time he was done, the elevator had arrived with a shaky ping, and he was away, albeit _very _slowly. The elevator creaked and moaned as he descended, occasionally jerking him around the metal grated floor before finally coming to a halt at the bottom. The gates crunched open, and Gordon took a cautious, wary step out, scanning the courtyard with his shotgun.

Something with a deep, throaty voice breathed heavily, the laboured noise punctuated by the occasional, animalistic grunt. Gordon hopped off the concrete ramp that led from the elevator and to the cobblestone ground below. An inhuman cry came from the flaming car on his right, and Gordon whipped his weapon around as something small, black and screeching launched at his face. Gordon tumbled back, lifting up the shotgun and put it between himself and whatever the hell it was trying to attach itself to his face. It seemed like a headcrab on (forced) closer inspection, a charred black replacing the yellow-y white of normal headcrabs.

Good lord, he was calling headcrabs normal now.

One of the long, slightly thicker than usual legs lashed out at his face. Gordon gasped in pain as his face burned. With a cry, he ejected the headcrab from his face and rolled away.

For the first time since he had put it on, the HEV suit piped up with its' usually helpful advice.

"_Warning. Neurotoxin detected. Anti-toxin administered."_

Well, that was something, anyway. Didn't stop it burning his face like a bitch. Not only that, but the pain was spreading, paralysing his cheek and moving up to his eye. Before losing half his visibility, Gordon heaved the shotgun up and blasted the slowly creeping headcrab into a green, bloody paste.

Beside him, a zombie unlike any Gordon had seen before lumbered from beside the flaming car. The fleshy clawed hands and standard issue denim pants were all that Gordon recognised, the rest of the zombie's body taken up with the blackened headcrabs. The weight of the creatures was obviously not something easy to bear, the hunched posture of the zombie a testament to that. It also seemed to affect it's speed, and the creature could only lumber unevenly towards him before hurtling it's clawed hand at him with one, cumbersome motion.

Gordon ducked the swipe and blasted a headcrab from the zombie's body. He pumped the shotgun as he rolled away, the feeling gradually coming back to his face with an uncomfortable pins-and-needles sensation. The zombie struggled to turn to face him, and Gordon shot off another headcrab. Only three remained; one on the zombie's head, one on the small of it's back and another perched like a parrot on the shoulder.

After another pull of the trigger, the shoulder headcrab was also gone. The headcrab from the back of the zombie wasn't going to be caught out so easily, however, and launched itself at him, snarling like a rattlesnake as it tumbled through the air. Gordon threw himself forward, avoiding the poisonous beast but with the unfortunate side-effect of coming to a halt directly in front of the zombie. With a low moan, it promptly brought up both arms in a downward smash. Gordon rolled to the right and away from the blazing car. The cobblestone floor cracked from the force of the zombie blow.

Scrambling to his feet, Gordon caught the separated headcrab taking another shot at him with a mighty baseball swing of the shotgun, hurtling it across the courtyard and into an ancient collection of trash cans. As they crashed and rolled from the impact, Gordon whirled to meet the still approaching zombie, and promptly unloaded a blast to the headcrab nestled on the head of the monster. It's head whipped back as the headcrab was ripped from it, and the zombie stumbled back before finally falling into the flaming wreck of the car.

All that remained was the crackling of the flames, and Gordon finally let his shoulders slump, one long breath removing at least _some_ of the tension.

But then a deep rattle came from behind him, and Gordon sighed with his eyes closed. He looked to the sky irritably.

_A few seconds. That's all I ask, honestly._

Then the headcrab let out a horrifically high pitched squeal and launched towards him from the overturned trash cans. Gordon turned and knelt at the same time, letting the creature sail over him and straight into the flames. Dropping the shotgun, Gordon slipped the crowbar from where it was nestled on his hip and brought it to bear. Keeping his eyes on the flame, he was only too ready when the screeching, flaming little bastard came for his face. With a single sideways swipe of the crowbar, the quickly very dead creature was sent tumbling limply to the ground, rolling along to a gradual, dusty stop.

Sheathing the crowbar, Gordon turned and scooped up the shotgun before proceeding on through the gap in the fence and into the darkened alleyway beyond. Following it around, he found himself coming out into another courtyard, one of the fan devices firmly planted in the centre. Grunts, howls, moans and squeals sounded from all around him as he walked to the middle of the courtyard and looked to the buildings that surrounded the area. Wooden planks supported by rusty metal poles made up walkways leading around the buildings, going to a building behind Gordon at the far end of the courtyard.

From where he was standing, he couldn't tell if it would take him closer to the church or further away.

Two zombies lumbered from out of the shadows of a nearby alleyway. The howls of fast zombies echoed from the rooftops. A poisonous headcrab rattled ominously, unseen.

Gordon decided he didn't care where he was going, as long as it was away from here. He cocked the shotgun and started running for the building in front of him, running around to where he could see the walkway slanting downwards. Long, dried grass crunched beneath his boots as he ran. A poisonous zombie emerged from the shadows, and Gordon managed to dart around it, avoiding the heavy arms as they swung around to remove his head from his shoulders.

Several old metal crates were stacked in a makeshift climbing frame, and Gordon clambered up, taking him to the walkway. Without pause, he kept on running, uncaring of the unstable nature of the wooden planking beneath him. Fast zombies leapt from the rooftops in the distance and poisonous zombies beneath him tossed their headcrabs like discuses.

He ducked, hopped and leapt his way around the flying monsters. The walkway ended abruptly in front of him, and Gordon saw that he was expected to leap from one side of the alleyway to the other, assisted by a dolly suspended from a cable leading from one building to the other.

Continuing his full on sprint, Gordon merely cricked his neck before leaping onto the dolly platform. Handily it went swinging along with him, taking him conveniently close to the building opposite. He dropped off onto the lower roof of the building below, his momentum forcing him down and into a forward roll. The end result was a rather ungracious spread eagle position, lying on his back and looking up to the cloudy, murky sky.

A fast zombie flew across his vision, and came to a skidding halt on the roof beside him, standing between him and the rest of the 'walkway'. It stood roaring in front of him, the noise sounding painfully jagged coming from human vocal chords, as Gordon knew it did. The thought made him sick, so he concentrated on ripping the damn thing to shreds with his shotgun.

The zombie made it easy for him by leaping straight at him. It was sent flying back and fell down a gap between buildings. Gordon walked across the tightrope of a bridge that had been erected between the buildings, and promptly found some shotgun ammunition sat comfortably beside an old wooden chair. It would seem that once upon a time, the good Father Grigori would sit in that chair and take pot-shots at zombies. As he loaded up the shotgun, Gordon hoped that Grigori wouldn't end up being _too _insane. He didn't need attacking by humans as well as aliens and zombies.

He remembered the crazed look in the security guard's eyes at Black Mesa, so long ago and yet so recent.

"_You scientist shit. You think you can do my job better than me?"_

Another Kaufman he definitely _didn't _need.

Getting to the end of the alleyway, Gordon found himself overlooking another jump, although this one only had a few feet to get to metal fire escape. After all the cliff jumping and inhuman leaps he had been making over the past few days, he figured he could do this one with his eyes closed.

He wasn't _going to_, but still. The potential was there, he was sure.

Gordon shook his head and made the jump, the approaching snarl of the fast zombies behind him prompting him into action. He landed feet first with a satisfying thud on the metal fire escape.

The back end of which promptly collapsed, ending in a deadly slant downwards to the alleyway quite a few feet below. Gordon fell face first on the metal gantry and started sliding. With a desperate upwards swing of his arm, Gordon managed to wedge his fingers between the latticework of the fire escape, coming to an abrupt halt.

The irony that wooden, improvised planks had supported his weight better than professionally designed metal fire escapes was not lost on Gordon.

Shotgun tucked underneath his arm, Gordon yanked himself up until he was horizontal again. Bizarrely, the zombies had had the good grace to wait until he had climbed back up and was making his way through the glassless window. Only once one foot was inside the building did they make the leap over the alleyway, aiming for his head. He caught one with the shotgun, sending it tumbling down to the ground below. A quick sidestep meant the other just barely skimmed past him, tumbling into the room behind him and colliding with the jumble of boxes on the other side of the room.

It was on it's feet in a few moments, the roar sounding oddly frustrated as it turned to face him. Gordon cocked the shotgun and fired again, missing with the first shot as the zombie leapt for the wall on his left, bouncing off it like a ball. Dropping to his back, Gordon blasted the creature in midair as it sailed ineffectively over his head, hitting it in the belly.

Gordon rolled over and was aiming again as the zombie crashed into wall just beside the open doorway, leaving a bloody mess there from the wound in it's midsection. One more blast to the head made it even messier.

Blowing out a grateful breath, Gordon heaved himself to his feet and wiped a mucky gloved hand over his equally grimy forehead. Wary, tired and yearning for a bed, Gordon walked onwards through the rotting doorway in front of him, one aching foot in front of the other.

Walking through the next room, full of old washing machines and dishwashers, a platoon of zombies were waiting for him, stumbling up a flight of stairs coming from the right of the room. He took aim with the shotgun, but, after a quick glance around the room, Gordon tossed it to the ground and brought the Gravity Gun around.

Firing washing machines and dishwashers as zombies was fun in a very troubling way.

The zombies quickly dispatched, Gordon continued on down the stairs, eventually making his way up several ladders and through different loft areas before emerging on a rooftop. He could see most of Ravenholm from his vantage point. It was a rather large roof, too, and - this was what caught Gordon's attention the most - with no discernable way down.

A loud, familiar voice rang out from his right, and Gordon looked over. Hidden behind a tall barbed wire fence, was the church. Down below, stood beside the pure white building like a holy guardian, Father Grigori waved to him, rifle still in hand.

"Ah, there you are! At last! I will send the cart for you brother, it will be but a moment." He gestured to a large cart that was no doubt once used for coal… and other things that people mined for. For a scientist, Gordon was finding that his knowledge was remarkably limited. The cart hung from a sturdy metal cable leading from the church to the rooftop on which Gordon stood. A yellow handbrake lever jutted out of edge of the roof.

Gordon watched as Grigori turned to a portable (well, portable in that it could be attached to the back of a car or something) generator and jabbed an elbow into a button there. With a metallic groan, the generator started up, rumbling along like an old car as it worked up the power to push the cart up the slanted angle the cable provided.

"Patience, brother."

Zombies howled, and Gordon couldn't hide his sigh. Grigori didn't seem to notice, although whether that was because Grigori was too far away to notice or just ignorant, Gordon couldn't tell.

"Guard yourself well!"

Well, _he_ obviouslyhad a PhD in survival techniques. A red box of shotgun ammunition answered Gordon's silent prayers, and he loaded up.

A distant rattling attracted Gordon's attention, and at first he thought it was the cart rolling it's way towards him. Looking over, he saw it had yet to even start moving. Cautious eyes darting around the roof, Gordon's gaze was eventually drawn to the tip of a drainpipe poking up past the ledge of the roof in front of him.

It was jiggling from side to side, as though something were shaking it. Cocking the shotgun, Gordon crept to the side, aiming down. A fast zombie lurched up the pipe, clambering like a spider towards him. One shot from the rifle in his hands sent it tumbling down to the ground several stories below, knocking the zombies following up after it down with a cacophony of thuds and growls.

Rattling sounded from the other side of the roof, and Gordon could see another drainpipe jerking awkwardly. Eyes flicking downwards again, Gordon saw that those zombies were trying again as well. He took aim for a moment, but then thought better of it, instead shooting at the bracket nearest to him holding the pipe to the wall. The spray shot shattered the plastic of the bracket easily, and Gordon promptly tucked the rifle under his arm, bringing the Gravity Gun around.

Setting it at an angle, he aimed it at the pipe and pressed the primary trigger. With a flash, a bolt of yellow-white energy struck out. The pipe creaked as it struggled to move outwards. Gordon peeked over the side; the zombies were getting closer. His jaw set, Gordon aimed and fired again and again, the pipe's protesting creaks becoming ever louder until, finally, it was released from it's bonds to the wall. With a small measure of satisfaction, Gordon looked over the edge and watched as the pipe tumbled back, the zombies clinging to it like doomed monkeys as they crashed to the ground below.

The concept that the act of killing creatures that were once human satisfied him would have troubled Gordon at any other time.

But right now, zombies from the other side of the roof had since arrived, and were making a mad dash for him. Bringing the shotgun up again, Gordon chanced a quick glance to the cart. It was just passing over the barbed wire fence, and moving at a fair speed towards him. Gordon blasted two zombies and ducked another, the wailing monster flying over his head and off the ledge.

The pipe rattled. More were coming.

The cart arrived with a clang. As Gordon backed his way towards the cart, Father Grigori's voice rang out.

"Now brother, step into the cart!"

Gordon resisted the urge to shoot him a sarcastic 'well, _duh_' look.

"The _handbrake_, brother! Release it and come down!"

Slightly irritated by all the suggestions, Gordon turned and gave the yellow handbrake a sturdy kick, sending it creaking over to the other side. Without pause, the cart started moving again.

"No, brother! You must be _in _the cart before releasing the handbrake!"

"I _know!"_ Gordon yelled. Father Grigori, unaccustomed to his new friend shouting in such a manner (or vocalising at all, when Gordon thought about it), simply nodded mutely.

Gordon saw the zombies pile onto the roof and take stock of their surroundings before charging towards him. Wasting no time, Gordon turned and ran for the metal ledge of the building, tossing his shotgun just before he pushed off with his legs. The gun landed in the cart without incident.

The gun's owner, however, landed rather ungraciously, slamming chest first into the side of the metal platform, sending it swinging back and forth precariously. Gordon managed to get a steady grip on the edges of the cart, and started pull himself inside as he passed over the barbed wire fence. Before he could finally yank himself inside, however, something spindly wrapped around his ankle. The weight of the zombie pulled Gordon down again, although by now he was within the confines of the church grounds.

Looking over, Gordon saw Father Grigori take aim. The priest fired before Gordon could say much to convince him otherwise. To his credit, he managed to hit the headcrab atop of the zombie with one shot, sending it tumbling silently to the grass below.

The cart stopped above a wooden platform that had obviously seen a lot of use, although it looked no weaker for it. Gordon's feet scraped against it as the cart came to a halt. He reached inside and pulled out the shotgun before tiredly proceeding down a small ladder to Father Grigori. He waited beside an old, beaten table with ammunition for all manner of weapons.

Shotguns and revolvers included, it seemed.

"Greetings, brother," Grigori said. "And so, we meet at last."

Gordon smiled and nodded. "Thank you."

"It was nothing," the priest replied, waving a dismissive hand. The skin was cracked and worn like old leather. Cuts and grazes peppered his knuckles, as well as a few badly healed scars on his bald head. It reminded Gordon of the scar on Barney's cheek.

He wondered if Barney was all right back in the city.

Blinking the thought away, Gordon nodded inquisitively to the ammunition splayed out on the table inquisitively.

"May I…?"

Grigori smiled. "Of course, of course." He continued speaking as Gordon loaded his weapons, starting with the shotgun and trying to look somewhat professional as he did so. One wouldn't want the crazy priest thinking one had no idea what he was doing, would one?

"You are to be commended for avoiding my traps," he said, smiling. The grin faltered somewhat as he went on. "The work of a man who once had too much time on his hands, and now finds time for nothing but the work of salvation." Grigori raised his fist to the heavens to accentuate the point, but it seemed like a half-hearted gesture.

Gordon finished loading the revolver and slipped it into it's holster.

Grigori nodded. "I suspect you have little wish to remain in Ravenholm, so I will show you to the mines."

A nod was Gordon's only reply at first, but then his gaze travelled to the rustic, decaying town on his right, dull even in the moonlight and hiding so many nightmares within.

He looked back to Grigori. "And you?"

Smiling and shrugging, the priest clutched his rifle just that little tighter. "A shepherd must tend to his flock. Especially when they have grown…" he chuckled, raising his fist to the skies once again, but with slightly more conviction, "…unruly."

Gordon just let that one pass, settling for a slow nod. Looking into the man's eyes, he saw something, but it didn't feel like insanity. In fairness, Gordon only had one frame of reference for what an insane person should look like. But still… Grigori seemed passionate, definitely. But crazy?

He couldn't decide.

Unaware of Gordon's conundrum, Grigori gestured behind him with his rifle, indicating a canyon splitting a large hill behind him in two. "Follow me brother, and tread lightly," he warned gently, "For this… is hallowed ground."

With that, the bald, slightly more than middle-aged man of God turned and shot off towards the darkness. Gordon followed, wondering how many more times he would have to follow someone of dubious mental capacity into unknown dangers.

The canyon took them around a left corner and to an old metal fence, the black paint peeling and bubbled from age and rust. Arrowheads on the bars of the fence were obviously meant to ward off errant visitors once upon a time. But since the fast zombies could leap over cars, the fence probably wasn't as much of a deterrent as it used to be. To that end, two planks formed a ramp up to the fence, which Grigori quickly jogged up and hopped down onto the muddy ground on the other side, his red sneakers catching Gordon's eye before they disappeared into the grass.

Gordon followed along, the Gravity Gun clanking against the fence as he jumped to the ground. The canyon was silent as they traversed it, the only noise their collective feet munching against the mud and grass. Moonlight shone down, giving just barely enough for them to see where they were going. He was tempted to switch on his flashlight, but Grigori seemed to know where he was going. And besides, anything that could attract zombie attention wasn't good.

His gaze wandered back to where they had just come from. He looked back to Grigori, increasing his pace so that he was somewhat closer to the priest.

"Um… Father?" he murmured, particularly aware of just how silent this place was.

"Hm?"

His mouth felt a little dry, so he swallowed. He wasn't quite sure how to put this. "How long… that is, you…"

Grigori smiled. "How long have I been carrying out the Lord's will? Freeing these cursed souls?"

Well, that wasn't _exactly _how Gordon would have put it. He just nodded his agreement.

"I am uncertain." The priest's gaze travelled up to the moon, the only pure thing that one could see in this Godforsaken place. He looked to Gordon with a wry smile. "No calendars. But… from what I have been able to ascertain… two years."

Gordon's voice was barely a whisper. "Two years?"

"Or more. It is, as I have said, hard to tell."

"But-" he stopped himself and cleared his troubled throat as quietly as he could. "How?"

"I am afraid I do not understand the question, brother."

"I mean… how do you go on? The… the violence and… and killing…"

A confident finger thrust itself towards the sky. "The Lord. He guides me in all things. Gives me hope. Reassures me that I am freeing imprisoned souls from these… hellish bonds." He grinned, and waved over at Gordon. "But you must know better than most, brother. Your prowess with a weapon and ease with the Lord's work… how long have you been carrying out His will?"

He opened his mouth and then closed it again. How could he count it?

Gordon sighed. "Three days."

Grigori stopped, and so did Gordon. The priest was studying his face. Finally, he lay a hand on Gordon's armoured shoulder.

"I am sorry, brother. I merely assumed…" He shook his head. "But now that I have seen your eyes… such suffering for one so undeserving. A great shame."

With a saddened smile and pat on the shoulder, Grigori continued moving. Gordon watched him go for a few moments before following along.

"And you do not believe in the Lord, my child?"

Gordon's head came up to look at the priest, pausing for a moment. "No."

"Or any God?"

_His _face flashed across Gordon's mind, with his neatly pressed suit and flawlessly polished shoes and dead eyes.

He shook his head again.

"Why is that, I wonder…?"

It was a rhetorical question, Gordon knew. But the reply just… spilled out of him. Words getting lost in the darkness.

"Because if I seriously believed that there was some all powerful, benevolent, _kind_ being that was supposed to love us and care for us… and it let all of _this _happen…"

Gordon thought about Black Mesa. About the citizens in City 17. About his family. His friends.

His voice shook. "I honestly think I'd… go insane."

At first, Grigori didn't reply, and Gordon was afraid the priest was going to do something violent and sudden. His response was soft, careful. Deliberate.

"Then I would recommend, brother, that you find faith in some_one _or some_thing_. Quickly. For if you do not… I fear for your soul… as well as the sanity of which you speak."

Grigori turned and walked on. Gordon numbly watched him go for a moment before following. The priest pointed ahead of them to another fence, the same wooden ramps already in place for them. A cemetery rolled out behind it, the low metal fencing making a maze out of it.

"We are close to the mines. However, getting through the cemetery will be difficult. The cursed are here, often countless in number. I like to think that some aspect of their true selves is what draws them here; a desire to be welcomed into the arms of the Lord." He glanced over at Gordon and smiled. "If you believe in such things, of course."

Gordon shrugged apologetically, but Grigori waved it away, instead looking to the graveyard ahead.

"Are you ready?"

Cocking the shotgun, Gordon waited for the shell to hit the grass silently before nodding. Grigori went first, and Gordon couldn't help but admire his courage; leaping into what was probably a nest for zombies with nothing but a shotgun and old, worn clothes to protect him. Although he _did _seem to have spare shells poking out of every pocket he had, so… maybe it wasn't that crazy.

Oh yeah, and he had the Lord. That would protect him.

Gordon, however, didn't really put too much clout in unseen deities. They had a tendency to let him down.

Hopping over the fence behind his portly companion, Gordon crept along hunched over, copying Grigori's posture. He wasn't sure if it was going to do them any good, but still… it felt safer, at least.

And _there _was the familiar moan. From down the other end of their 'corridor', around the right turn, several zombies lurched into view. And then several more. And several more after that. Grigori hadn't been kidding. They really did like to congregate here.

The priest nodded to Gordon, who returned the gesture. Heading forwards, they started firing.

Countless in number was right. Within a few minutes of wading into the sea of moaning, growling zombies, Gordon had run out of ammunition for his shotgun, relying on the shells Grigori could take the time to toss over to him. Gordon tried not to think as he moved and killed with ease.

He ducked a slash and blasted the zombie in the chest, threw himself back to avoid another, blasted the headcrab off that zombie as he hauled himself to his feet, smashing the butt of the rifle into the belly of another beast. A fast zombie barrelled into his back, knocking him on his front and skidding along, almost colliding headfirst with a gravestone. He rolled and brought the shotgun around, firing off another round and tearing through the thin flesh of the creature.

"Woe to thee, child!"

His companion was doing uncomfortably better considering he didn't have a HEV suit. Grigori ducked underneath a fast zombie, pointing his crimson rifle straight up, blasting it out of the sky without even aiming. Whirling around, he clubbed two normal zombies around the headcrab with one swift motion, sending them stumbling into one another before he brought his rifle to bear and sent them sprawling.

Gordon scrambled to his feet as Grigori raced past him, and they made their way around the corner, ducking, swerving and occasionally hopping around the constant waves of clawed hands. The occasional headcrab came hissing for them, and in an impressive display, Grigori managed to catch one mid leap and impale it on the points of the metal fence behind him.

Another corner, and Gordon once more ran out of ammunition for his shotgun. Grigori was already leading on ahead, laughing and firing away. It almost seemed random, but every shot found it's mark, zombies sent hurtling back with nothing but a dying snarl. Gordon followed on, tossing aside the shotgun and pulling out his revolver and crowbar.

Zombies waited for him, growling in anticipation as he tried to bypass them to get to Grigori. He dodged a slash and responded with a heavy swing of the crowbar, ducking another attack and firing up with the revolver, blasting the headcrab clean off. A clearing temporarily made beside him, Gordon darted out and managed to weave his way through the crowd with the occasional shot and swing for good luck before he reached the end of the maze.

An ominous stone tomb nestled into the rock face on Gordon's right, two large propane tanks lodged beside it. A large fence of a gate was on his left, a building just up a hill behind it seemingly his only way forward. Walking to a lever, Grigori yanked it down and looked to Gordon frantically. With a steady whirr, the winch machine attached to the lever pulled the gate up, allowing just enough room for someone to crawl underneath.

"Hurry brother, while I hold the gate!"

Zombies coming from all sides, Gordon didn't need any more encouragement. He hurled himself underneath the gap. The gate hit the ground with a dusty thud behind him, the cloud permeating around him as he got to his feet.

Looking around, he watched as Grigori walked to the gate.

"Farewell, brother. I fear I deliver you to a darker place." He thrust his fist into the sky. "May the light of lights illuminate your path!"

"I…" Gordon clenched his fist around the fence. "Thank you."

Behind Grigori, a low groan heralded the approach of a poisonous zombie from behind the tomb. The stone entrance to the tomb crumbled almost on cue, several zombies struggling to force their way through at the same time. More approached from the graveyard itself, fast zombies impatiently snarling to get past their slower contemporaries. This did not go unnoticed by Grigori, who looked to the oncoming battle, and then glanced back to Gordon with a broad grin.

"Walk to your own… salvation!"

He loaded up his rifle, turned, and waded into battle, laughing all the way. Gordon didn't even try to stop him. It was a first for him, simply standing by without even _attempting_ to help. But he saw something in Grigori's eyes, a determination and passion. Grigori knew that Gordon would be able to take care of himself; if he didn't he wouldn't have entrusted a shotgun to him.

Gordon knew that Grigori would die in this town. But even now, watching as the man laughed and backed up to the propane tanks, firing wildly into the horde that approached him, Gordon equally knew that he would never have been able to help him.

And Gordon had people waiting for him. Grigori didn't.

He turned and walked away, slipping his revolver and crowbar away as he trudged up the grassy hill to the entrance to the building ahead.

The propane tanks exploded. Gordon didn't turn back.

Pale yellow light from a lone light bulb above his head lit the graffiti scrawled on the wooden wall beside him. Opposite the crude outline of a citizen clutching something to his chest - possibly a baby, time had worn it away rather badly - a door offered a way onward. It opened without protest, taking Gordon into a bare warehouse of a room. There was next to nothing inside except a mineshaft heading straight downwards, embedded in the left-hand side of the room.

Acutely aware of how prone he was to falling from tall things, Gordon crept cautiously to the edge.

"Wow."

That was a long way down. And, looking around, he could see no conceivable way of safely getting himself to the sandy ground below. A thick wooden framework ran all around the perimeter of the vertical shaft. Gordon sighed and started lowering himself down, his tired arms trembling slightly as he tried to control his descent.

Gordon _really _didn't like heights. He had known it when he was five and had climbed that huge tree at his grandpa's house only to get stuck at the top, and he knew it back at Black Mesa when he had to scale a cliffside while fighting soldiers. So it came as no surprise to him when it took him about forty minutes to get down halfway. But then, of course, the hiss of a headcrab from below distracted him, causing him to lose his footing and tumble painfully out of the mouth of the mine shaft and onto the metal walkway just beneath it.

He may have landed with a noise, he couldn't tell. All he could hear was the ringing and his HEV suit going on about a fracture of some kind. Groaning, he blinked away the stars and pushed himself to his feet, thankfully finding his glasses just in front of his fumbling hands as he stood. There wasn't much noise. The occasional drip of something into a much larger pool of something echoed around the cavern now and again, but other than that… nothing.

Even the plethora of headcrabs below didn't make any noise as they scuttled around beneath the web of walkways on which Gordon now stood. He couldn't tell if they had noticed his presence or not, but they seemed to be pacing rather nervously. Making his way around the walkway, Gordon had to duck underneath collapsed wooden beams and chunks of rock that had begun to emerge from the long since abandoned ceiling of the cave. Left to rot, like so much in this brave new world.

The flickering of a small fire bounced across the walls, and Gordon looked around for the source. At the far end of the walkway, a very tall fence blocked off access to another tunnel, at the end of which the fire burned. The light it provided displayed a left turn beside it, and Gordon started making his way over. The fence _would _have been too tall to climb over if not for the walkway, which was just high enough for Gordon to take a running leap and clear it rather easily. Once over, there would be a rather large drop, but hey, what else was new around here?

Gordon made his way down the stairs and to the run of walkway that would allow him a straight run up. He cricked his neck, hopped from foot to foot for a moment, and then launched into a full on sprint. Easy, easy, it was going to be easy, it-

It wasn't easy.

His ankle caught on the top of the fence as he hurtled over it, tugging him down until he collided with a rattling thud against it. Spectacles tumbling from his face, Gordon didn't even have a chance to reach out for them before falling the rest of the way to the sandy ground below. Well, it would have been sandy if not for the mine cart rail there. As it was, his back collided with solid metal, and once again, his HEV suit beeped helpfully. It didn't try to tell him what he had done wrong this time, however, for which Gordon was more than a little grateful.

Groaning once more, he pulled himself up into a sitting position. Blinking, he started feeling around for his glasses. He frowned as he noticed his gloves seemed somewhat clearer. He held them up to his face for a few moments before shaking his head, dismissing the thought. The glasses were found with little trouble, and though they were a little cloudier than before, Gordon was willing to forgive them.

Following the tunnel around the corner, Gordon found his feet gradually drifting into water. Obviously the mines had flooded at some point or another. He looked down at the liquid. Damn, that was some murky water. Peeking over his shoulder, Gordon wondered how the Gravity Gun would react to being submerged.

With a shrug, he dove in. Seeing anything in the cloudy liquid wasn't particularly easy, with only vague shapes to guide him. He navigated his way around a corner and through some support beams before finding the ground gradually getting higher up beneath his feet. Eventually, he was walking out of the water, emerging like some monster out of an old B-movie.

God, he was tired. The water stung his eyes as he rounded another darkened corner. But something managed to give him hope, peeking down at him from above.

Sunlight.

He was close to sunlight.

A slanted tunnel ahead of him revealed sunlight coming from the top, putting everything ahead of him in silhouette. At the bottom of the tunnel, planted at the foot of the mine car track that ran the tunnels' length, was a mine car with something similar to Grigori's fan traps wedged inside, albeit a little smaller. A lever poked out of the ground in front of the cart.

Glancing up the tunnel, the silhouettes of zombies slowly emerged from either side, their moans echoing down to greet him. He yanked down the lever and stepped back as it cranked to life, the fan activating with a deadly buzz. And then it was away, hurtling up the diagonal tunnel, cutting down zombies as it went.

Gordon waited until it was at the top before making his way up. Then he noticed that the cart was getting bigger. It heading back _down_.

Glancing around in alarm, Gordon noticed that the cave walls curved inwards, allowing someone to stand inside and avoid the blades. It was a little ahead of him, however, and he had to sprint like never before to clamber through the uneven ground and lodge himself inside.

The cart shot past, a long cable attached tensing as it reached the bottom. After a brief pause, it launched back up to the top.

Another cursory glance around the tunnel confirmed that there were curved indentations all the way to the top, and Gordon managed (with some timing and more than a little of the 'Freeman Dumb Luck' syndrome) to dodge his way to the top, where the ground straightened out.

Light streamed in from the mouth of the tunnel that seemed so very far away, and Gordon squinted, raising his hand to block the pure white of it while his eyes adjusted. Cautiously pulling out his revolver, Gordon left Ravenholm and returned to City 17.

He was in a train yard, and a disused one at that. Old, abandoned trailers rested on the tracks, moss and rust spreading along them. Gordon stood on some kind of loading bay, no doubt for the coal that was regularly shipped up here from the Ravenholm mines.

The sky was a fresh blue, but Gordon could tell from the damp, crisp air that it had not been that way for long. Usually he enjoyed the peace that came with seeing the day begin.

Now it just unnerved him. He gripped the revolver tighter, his glove creaking as he hopped off the dilapidated stone platform and onto the tracks. Since the two tracks were both taken up with derelict carriages, Gordon assumed one of those Combine trains wasn't going to come slicing through the area anytime soon.

He slowly followed the curve of the tracks around to the right, taking occasional pauses beneath the corridor bridges that ran across above his head now and again. As much as he enjoyed the sun, he needed a break from the constant squinting. It was giving him a headache.

Headache. Ha. What an ordinary pain to be complaining about. It was somewhat comforting to be bitching and moaning about a headache instead of some compound fracture or bleeding organ.

The distant, bubbling snarl of a fast zombie grabbed his thoughts away, and Gordon brought up the revolver as he rounded the next turn.

Flanked by it's slower brothers, the fast zombie was making a beeline for him, although there was a fair amount of distance between them. More than enough for Gordon to take aim.

A thin, blue stream of light came from the bridge between Gordon and the zombie. It wasted no time in locking onto the zombie's head. A resounding crack filled the air, booming around the confined walls of the tracks on which Gordon stood. Something fast impacted against the fast zombie's head, sending it tumbling back along the ground, headcrab and all.

The process was quickly repeated for the slower zombies, leaving them in various forms of disarray over the rails. A chill ran up Gordon's spine as he recognised the signs.

_Snipers._

He hated snipers.

Oh, the joys of returning to civilisation.

With a crick of the neck that was so loud he was worried he may have broken something, Gordon crept forward, moving slowly and quietly until he was underneath the shadow of the bridge. Looking up, he started to edge his way out onto the other side, keeping his gaze locked on the boarded over windows running along the corridor. One of the windows was bereft of cover, the familiar blue laser wiping back and forth on the landscape ahead.

Gordon brought up the revolver, unsure of just what the hell he was going to do against a sniper that far up. With a shrug he pushed himself out into the open, aiming the revolver at the open window and praying for any sign. All he could see was blackness. The blue laser found him rather quickly though, locking onto the Lambda symbol on his chest with ease.

Throwing himself forward, Gordon the high powered bullet blast past him and lodge itself into the ground. Panting from where he sat, encased in the shadow of the bridge, Gordon looked up to where his enemy was hidden. The laser was now firmly locked as low down as the soldier could go without exposing himself.

Which left Gordon pretty much screwed if he tried the 'run for it' option.

So he waited for a few minutes.

Quickly tiring of waiting, Gordon pushed himself to his feet and tilted his head upwards.

"I can wait, you know," he said loudly, hoping the sound didn't carry all the way down the tracks and to any other Combine forces that were waiting.

Silence.

Then, something akin to a muttered curse came over the distorted wavelength the Combine used. Gordon watched as something fell out of the bridge, plopping down onto the rocks beside him.

A grenade.

Slipping the revolver away and yanking the Gravity Gun around in one surprisingly swift motion, Gordon locked it down on the grenade and sucked it up towards him. Throwing himself forward and onto his back so that he was looking straight up at the open window, he aimed the Gravity Gun and fired, propelling the grenade back up to it's owner.

Silence.

"_Shit."_

An explosion burst out of the darkened window, propelling the man inside out into the harsh daylight. He hit the rails below quite a few feet away from Gordon, landing with a resounding and very final thud. Gordon let himself breathe. The fact that manoeuvre even _worked_ was a miracle in itself.

After a few seconds of self-congratulatory relaxing, Gordon heaved himself up and continued on, walking over to the body of the CP and hoping to find something he could use.

Except it wasn't a CP. At least, not like Gordon had seen. The armour was thicker, giving the man a bulkier, stocky look. There was no white on the armour, the ghoulish masks of the CPs replaced by a dull, sturdy navy. Overall, they simply looked more fearsome and soldierly. Ready for combat. Although obviously not ready for some upstart scientist in a HEV suit firing their own grenades back at them.

Shaking his head for believing his own press, Gordon knelt beside the body and tugged the remaining (and surprisingly intact) grenade from the soldier's belt. In a manner he thought might appear knowing and professional to any onlookers, Gordon tested the heft of the explosive, nodding appreciatively. Then he blinked and realised what he was doing, and so decided to continue on and pretend it had never happened.

The rail on the left ahead was taken up by a carriage carrying half a dozen or so logs. Seeing as they were strapped to the trailer with heavy chains, it seemed a safe bet that he would be okay walking along the right rail instead.

If not for the blue laser that sprang out of the bridge ahead, whizzing straight over to him. Quickly backtracking, Gordon sprinted back until he was behind the trailer, avoiding one bullet and catching another in his side. The force of the impact sent him sprawling, although he was close enough that he would roll behind the trailer and avoid any more bullets.

He checked his stats. Predictably not good. Half power.

Another gunshot cracked out from around the corner, this one colliding with metal. A thunderous crash kicked up a huge cloud of dust over Gordon, the logs from the trailer rolling out onto the empty right-hand side of the rail. Waiting for the dust to settle, Gordon peeked around the trailer, only to find his view blocked by two logs which were teetering from the trailer and onto the ground. Seeing his way forward, Gordon got down on his belly and started shuffling.

As he made his way under the lip of the trailer, safely ensconced between it and the logs, Gordon had a not entirely welcome flashback to crawling through air vents in Black Mesa. There had been a merciful lack of air vents today, and for that Gordon was grateful. He wasn't so grateful for the zombies, soldiers and snipers constantly trying to kill him, but he thought it churlish to complain.

Crawling out the other side, Gordon had to scramble to his feet to avoid coming into the hidden sniper's vision again, slamming his back to the huge shipping container he found there. Moving slowly around it, he wormed his way through the maze of containers until he was beneath the bridge, a stone's throw from the sniper's bare window.

Or a grenade's throw, if you wanted to get pedantic. Gordon pulled the pin and tossed the grenade into the window. It went in first try, bouncing against the roof of the corridor with a tiny thud.

And with another resounding bang, one more sniper fell, tumbling to the ground behind Gordon. This one had nothing that was of any use to Gordon, so he continued on, pushing his way through the containers that blocked passage to the open area beyond.

Gordon passed a crackling campfire as he went, looking at the dead soldiers and zombies that were strewn about it with worrying indifference. Once sunlight started filtering in through gaps of the containers, he pulled out the revolver. Emerging from the dark tunnel, Gordon squinted as the sunlight once again assaulted his eyes.

The tracks stretched out in front of him, several train carriages and oil tankers parked at the far end, a tall wall on Gordon's right running along around the bend and preventing him from seeing much of anything in that direction. On his left, an expansive yet rather ordinary car park sat behind a tall, barbed wire fence. Most if not all of the vehicles were rusted and dying, the tyres gone and the insides stripped long ago.

Large foreign lettering above the building behind the car park gave Gordon the feeling it was a garage, this theory helped along somewhat by the presence of various car parts strewn about the place.

Something pinged behind Gordon's head, and he looked around curiously. Aside from the containers, he couldn't see anything. Bringing up the revolver, he looked around for the source of the noise. All he found were crows perched on the wall beside him, blinking and tilting their heads curiously.

"Did _you _see anything?" he asked.

Another ping, and Gordon ducked. Looking down the length of the tracks, Gordon noticed the incredibly distant figure of a soldier. Another ping.

Ah. It was someone _shooting_ at him.

Edging his way forward, using the long trail of tankers on his side of the tracks, Gordon got close enough to get a decent aim and fired. With a dull, almost quiet grunt of protest, the soldier tumbled back onto his rear, literally dead to the world. Gordon hurried over, and was about to help himself to the rather small machine gun nestled in the soldier's hands when more gunfire rained down on him.

Looking to his left, Gordon found an opening in the fence and slipped through, ducking down behind a lime green car. The bullets of his still unseen enemies ricocheted noisily while he simply crouched behind the car, waiting for them to stop. He noted the car engine that sat happily on the ground next to him.

Heavy boots thumped against the floor as the soldiers approached, metal chains and zips tinkling like keys as they went. Gordon pulled out the Gravity Gun and pulled the car engine to him. A soldier rounded the corner in front of him. Gordon fired.

The soldier was slammed into the car behind him, the thin rusted metal almost completely collapsing from the impact. Gordon stood, and the two soldiers behind looked at him with surprisingly stunned expressions (considering they were wearing featureless gasmasks). With an experimental cocked eyebrow, Gordon pointed the Gravity Gun at the soldier's small machinegun and promptly yanked it from his grip. That done, he fired it into the soldier's face. He fell back onto his comrade, unconscious.

The gun, meanwhile, flipped up into the air, deflected by the impact. Gordon let the Gravity Gun drop behind his back and reached up for the gun, snatching it out of the air and pointing it at the third soldier, who had only just manage to remove himself from the awkward falling body of his comrade. A few bullets were all it required to blast him away.

A garbled yell of 'breaker' something hit Gordon's ears, and he spotted the single soldier two cars away waving in reinforcements from the building opposite. Gordon looked over as two more soldiers spilled out, weapons drawn. He ducked as the soldier on his left opened fire, the bullets thunking against the metal violently.

A grenade tapped to the ground in front of him, red light ticking anonymously atop it. Bringing the Gravity Gun around, he brought the grenade up as he peeked over the car. One of the soldiers was making his way towards him. Gordon waited for a moment before he stood and fired the grenade towards his face. It went off just in front of the soldier, blasting him back and bouncing off the car behind him.

Gordon brought the machinegun up and started scaling the cars, managing to clamber his way across three of them before a barrage bullets into his back forced him to ground in a painful heap. He was closer to the doorway of the building, but still no closer to getting there alive. As he made his way to look around the side of the car, his knee tapped against something. Looking down, Gordon found himself amidst two small propane canisters. Gordon brought them up with the Gravity Gun as he heard the steady thudding of the soldier's boots as they approached.

There was one coming from around the left, Gordon was sure. Propelling himself forward in a leap and landing on his side in front of the hapless soldier, Gordon already had the Gravity Gun aimed as he hit the ground. The propane tank exploded on impact. Gordon didn't wait for the smoke to clear and found out if he was alive or not, instead sucking the next canister to him and checking for the final soldier.

Peeking through the glassless windows of the dismantled car in front of him, Gordon could find no trace of him. Breathing delicate and controlled, Gordon slowly started backing his way to the doorway, the only noise the steady thrumming of the Gravity Gun as it held the canister in place. Just as he reached the empty doorway, and bullets pinged against the metal frame. Gordon saw the figure of the soldier duck back down. He angled the Gravity Gun upwards and fired. The soldier came up for another shot, only for the canister to hit him smack dab between the eyes.

Gordon turned as it exploded, unconcerned with the end results. The gunfire coming from the room behind the door in front of him had his attention now. Going through with machinegun drawn, Gordon found himself in a small office area. Smudged, thin windows looked out at a repair shop. Or at least, the remains of one. Crouching, Gordon moved to the windows. He couldn't make out much, but from what he could see the Combine were on his side of the warehouse, their enemies on the far left.

With a crick of his neck, Gordon crept towards the doorway on his left. Poking his head around, Gordon saw several citizens in their customary denim jumpsuits fighting for their lives, weaving in and out from behind barrels and old cars and covering one another while they reloaded.

Neither side noticed him.

There was a soldier just beside the doorway, back to him. Gordon felled him with a volley of bullets. The other soldiers didn't seem to notice their comrades' death, nor the flat line tone that accompanied it. A barrel sat beside Gordon, and he scooped it up with the Gravity Gun. Creeping forward, he moved to where another Combine soldier was ducking behind a support pillar. Gordon crushed him before he even knew he was there.

Something hard collided with the side of his head, and Gordon tumbled. Turning over, he looked up at a Combine soldier, machinegun looming down on him ominously. But then, with one final bang from the other side of the room, the soldier fell, crumpling to the ground beside Gordon from the bullet lodged in his forehead.

Gordon stared up at the white lights on the metal ceiling for awhile before a breathless voice brought him out of his restful trance.

"Who's hurt?"

A professional female voice came back. "Winston's been hit."

Someone was groaning - presumably Winston, but it sounded rather restrained. Hefting himself to his feet, Gordon walked around the support pillar and to the middle of the warehouse, where one citizen was tending to another lying on the floor. He was clutching his profusely bleeding stomach, legs writhing as his would-be medic attempted to do something about it.

A black man with thick, slightly greying hair all around his face nodded thoughtfully, his demeanour and the way the two behind him looked at him indicating a leadership role.

"Patch him up and get him to the back as soon as he's stable." Dark eyes glanced around the warehouse before finally settling on him.

Gordon waved tiredly, the motion making his neck ache.

"Gordon Freeman? It's incredible you made it."

"Not really," he grunted, rubbing his sore neck.

The man just nodded neutrally. "We've been getting communications from Alyx, I'll see if I can reach her again. Follow me."

He led Gordon through into another room in the corner of the warehouse, this one significantly better lit and maintained than the one Gordon had entered through. Going to a closed door, the man rapped a fist against it.

"It's Leon, we're all clear. And I've got Gordon Freeman."

Almost too quickly, the door opened. A haggard young black woman, wearing a pale cream denim top instead of the usual blue was waiting for him.

"Doctor Freeman, you're kidding." She glanced to Gordon for only a moment before returning her attention to Leon. "I've been on the line with Alyx. Her…" Her eyes flitted to Gordon. "…father's been captured."

Leon closed his eyes and bowed his head for a moment before continuing into the room beyond.

The room was split into two halves by a thick wall, the one on Gordon's immediate left filled with wounded, either sleeping or unconscious, he couldn't be sure. The other side seemed to be dedicated to supplies, crates in the right and left hand corners with a table full of communications equipment in the middle.

But none of it was really registering with Gordon. His only thoughts were of Eli. That frail, limping old man that only a few days ago had seemed so strong to him.

And now he was being held captive, being subjected to… Lord knows what.

Gordon knew what his next goal would be, and not because anyone would tell him so. This was something he would have to do with or without consent or orders. He had spent two days in hell at Black Mesa, praying to get back to the people who he valued most. And Gordon would be damned if they were going to be taken away just as he got them back.

A Vortigaunt standing beside some crates seemed to notice his distress.

"The Eli Vance is indispensable to the liberation," he noted sadly. "The Eli Vance was our first collaborator."

Leon's voice brought Gordon's attention away from the alien.

"Alyx, it's Leon. And I've got Gordon Freeman with me."

Walking to the table, Gordon noticed that Leon was stood before an old TV, the black and white picture fluctuating wildly as it struggled to pick up a signal. Beside the TV, Leon fiddled with a few dials and knobs on a tuner. Alyx's face barely made it through the static, but her voice came through loud and clear.

"_Gordon. You made it through Ravenholm, thank God. I need your help, they've taken my father."_

Gordon put the machine gun down on the table in front of him. "Where?"

"_He's been taken to Nova Prospekt."_ Gordon had heard the name before from Barney and seen the name at the train station, but nothing more. So he just nodded.

"_The Vortigaunts tracked the ship that made off with him and Judith Mossman. While the trains are still running, I'm going to hitch a ride. Here's where you come in, Gordon; I need you to make your way along the coast until you get to Nova Prospekt. It used to be a high security prison, it's something… much worse than that now."_

A heavy breath left Gordon through his nose. That sounded like fun.

"_But I think it's still easier to sneak in than to break out."_

Oh, well. That makes all the difference.

Content to simply listen in so far, Leon leant his head over from the radio he was operating. "You want him to take the coast road? He won't last five minutes on foot. It's spawning season for the Antlions."

Gordon frowned. Spawning _what _for the _what?_

"_That's why I called you, Leon. I was hoping you still had the scout car we left with you last summer; the one my dad rigged with the Tau cannon."_

Tau cannon. Memories flooded back. Black Mesa. The questionable ethics of holding creatures in captivity for study. Kaufman.

Leon nodded. "Yeah, good idea. Hold on a sec. " He returned to the radio and pressed a button. "Norco? Bring the buggy out. Put it on the dock right now. _Gordon_ _Freeman_ will be driving it."

He said Gordon Freeman with such gusto, as though knowing it would have some kind of huge effect on the unseen Norco. And… a _buggy?_ A buggy? Gordon had never really been into cars that much. They had been things with engines that made getting places easier. But even to his inexperienced ears, 'buggy' just sounded weak. A mental image of driving around the coast in a golf course buggy sprang to his mind.

A girl's perky voice crackled back a few moments later. _"Will do. I just finished mounting an ammo crate on the back."_

"Good timing," Leon said, nodding. "Okay Alyx, we're all set."

"_Thanks Leon. Gordon, I haven't driven the coast in over a year, but I have got no reason to think it's gotten any safer. Meet me in the depot where the trains unload." _She took a breath, and the sensitive nature of the equipment betrayed just how shaky it was. Gordon wished he was the kind of person who knew what to say in these situations.

He settled for a firm, "Okay."

"_Take care of yourself, and I'll see you in Nova Prospekt." _She was silent again for a moment. And then, almost inaudibly,_ "Bye for now."_

Gordon wanted to say something. _Anything, damn it._ He took a breath to speak. With all the subtlety of a rhinoceros, Leon leant forward and reached for a switch on the TV.

"Bye, Alyx," he practically boomed, earning him a veiled glare from Gordon. "Okay, doc," he announced, oblivious to any wrongdoing, "before you hit the road you might want to grab some med kits, restock on ammo, maybe check the map, see where you're headed. There's an ammo supply crate for the MP7-" he nodded to the machinegun on the table for reference "-on the back of the car if that's any comfort."

He walked past Gordon as he spoke, heading for a door on the other side of the table. With a gentle tug of the handle, he opened it for Gordon. A small room awaited him on the other side, the closed door directly ahead of Gordon making him think of an airlock. He frowned as something scratched the side of his head, and he removed his glasses to investigate. Frowning, he noticed that the right temple had come loose from the blow the Combine soldier had dealt him earlier.

"Stay with the car-"

Gordon raised a hand. "Um-"

"-make use of the Thumpers-"

"I-"

"-and you'll stand a fair chance against the Antlions."

"I broke my glasses."

Silence filled the room. Someone snorted loudly in their sleep.

Leon took a breath. "Oh. I uh…" He frowned. "I didn't know you could do that."

Looking back down to the broken frame, Gordon ran his thumb across the jagged plastic thoughtfully. "Do you have any sticky tape?"

"Sticky tape."

"For the glasses."

"Um… no, I, uh… don't think so, no."

"Oh. Okay."

A gangly, brown hand reached for the glasses, scooping them up gently from Gordon's gloved hand.

"The adhesive strips of tape are not necessary." Both Gordon and Leon looked to the Vortigaunt curiously. The alien gestured to it's chest with it's middle arm. "This one will be sufficient for this task."

It held up the glasses and put the temple to the rest of the frame. Then, after the barest of blue sparks, handed it back to Gordon. He surmised the glasses as best he could with his impaired vision. Good as new.

He nodded to the Vortigaunt. "Thank you."

The Vortigaunt wrinkled it's face in a manner Gordon supposed resembled a smile. "Thanks are not necessary. The Freeman would experience much difficulty rescuing the Eli Vance and liberating us from the Combine with his vision impaired."

Gordon slipped the glasses on and blinked a few times to adjust to the clarity. They even seemed cleaner. "Very true."

Glasses now firmly on, he noticed the map on the other side of the room and made his way over. No doubt still slightly befuddled by the whole experience of Gordon Freeman's glasses breaking, Leon cautiously made his way over.

"That map is out of date, but you can still see more or less the route to Nova Prospekt. Can't vouch for the road, though, we've lost touch with some of the outposts."

Well, _that _didn't sound ominous at all. But Gordon could see the route to Nova Prospekt. It seemed like quite a winding path and took him quite close to the coast, but it was clear enough. Whether he'd remember it once he was halfway in the middle of nowhere was another matter entirely. He sighed and walked to the door, scooping up the machine gun and nodding his thanks to Leon as he went, who was busy radioing ahead.

"Shore Point to N.L.O. Shore Point to Newland Odessa. Come in Odessa, do you read?"

On a crate beside the door, Gordon found some ammunition for the Magnum revolver. Hoping there would be some room for the box in the buggy's ammo crate, Gordon clutched them in his fist and walked for the door. He nodded to the Vortigaunt as he went.

"The Eli Vance almost perceives the All-in-One."

Frowning, he looked back to the Vortigaunt. "What?"

"Doc," Leon called, "I can't get through to N.L.O. I don't know if it's just the usual static or if it's something worse. You'd better get going, and be quick about it."

Reluctant but understanding, Gordon slowly nodded, his gaze travelling from the waiting Leon and over the mysterious Vortigaunt before walking back to the door. He sighed as he reached for the door handle, machinegun wedged under his arm.

Why did everyone have to be so damned _vague_ about everything?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(A/N: Sorry this took so damn long, folks. Been busy. Incidentally, been watching the cop show 'Life' recently. Damien Lewis? The perfect Gordon Freeman. Perfect.

Anyway, reviews please!

_Next chapter: Highway 17)_


	7. Highway 17

-1Disclaimer: I don't own _Half-Life._

_**Welcome to City 17**_

_**Chapter Seven: Highway 17**_

The world opened up in front of Gordon as he opened the door, fresh sea air wafting over him as he stepped out onto the docks beyond. His boots clonked against the wood beneath his feet as he walked, the sound punctuated by the occasional crackle from the mounted machine gun in the distance. The coastline stretched out on Gordon's right.

And it was horrific.

It was as though the ocean had been drained. The docks themselves were bereft of water, old ships and rowing boats left to rest in the dry seabed. The tide was too far back. It looked as though it barely had the energy to move in and out, let alone cause any kind of waves. The sight alone made Gordon ache a little. This was his home, and it was being decimated and drained away to nothing.

His grip on his machinegun tightened ever so slightly. An echoing voice distracted him from his thoughts, and Gordon looked up and around him as who he assumed was Norco spoke.

"_Hello, Doctor Freeman. The car's all ready for you. Hop in and I'll lower you down to the beach."_

She was sat on the other side of the docks, sat in the control booth of a very large crane. Following the machine to its' dizzying apex, Gordon saw that a thick metal chain held what he assumed was a magnet at the end. It swayed ominously in the almost non-existent breeze. This ride was going to be fun.

The sun bore down on him with surprising intensity, and Gordon was squinting all the way to the buggy that rested on the dock in front of him. It looked as fragile as the title indicated. The barest of rusted metal frames that looked like it was kept together with superglue and a little bit of hope. A hard looking plastic seat (although Gordon hadn't found a comfortable chair _anywhere _for the last three days) seemed at just the right level that his head wouldn't collide with the top of the buggy frame every time he went over a bump.

Attached to the back of the buggy was the ammo crate Leon had told him about, and Gordon quickly opened it, revealing the green boxes inside. He slid the machinegun inside. Although there wasn't much room, he managed to wedge the boxes of revolver ammo into the crate as well. At least he wouldn't be improvising ways to take down his enemies with a crowbar and Gravity Gun for awhile.

A citizen in front of him, meanwhile, was having a hell of a time blasting away at something on the former seabed below.

"You like that?" he laughed, looking to Gordon for approval. Unsure of the correct response, Gordon just gave him a thumbs up. Apparently, that was all the man needed, returning to his task with more vigour than before.

Gordon tried not to listen to alien, animalistic squeals that were coming from below. It made the idea that he was going to be down there in a few moments slightly easier to deal with.

He slid into the buggy chair, only then realising there was no seatbelt. Lovely. The controls seemed simple enough; clutch, brake, accelerator… gear stick looked okay, although the numbers were barely visibly on the heavily worn rubber handle. Gordon hoped Eli had designed the buggy with American drivers in mind. He wasn't sure if other countries organised their peddles differently, or how they did _if _they did.

Damn, he hated cars.

The Tau cannon was attached to the right-hand side of the front of the car in front of the… well, 'cockpit' seemed appropriate for this thing. Just within arms reach to fire with one hand in a hurry or to take his time and aim with. From a safe distance and hidden behind something, preferably. He wondered if it was removable.

"_Good, here we go."_

With a loud clang, the sun suddenly disappeared from the back of Gordon's neck. He clenched his hands on the wheel as he felt himself rise up. He stared straight ahead as he was swung this way and that, the magnet almost swirling as it moved.

Then three words he didn't want to hear.

"_Damn magnet's failing." _

It sounded offhand, as though she had stepped on some dog crap.

"_Hold on."_

And then, without a noise, he was suddenly falling.

"_Sorry doc!"_

He had just enough time as the car tumbled upside down in the air to sigh before it crashed to the decidedly dry sand below. Gordon coughed the cloud of sand away and crawled out of the wreckage, his gloves struggling to find sufficient leverage to pull him all the way out.

With a grunt, he pushed himself to his feet and dusted himself off in a completely redundant gesture. Then the sand exploded around him, a thigh high yellow and green beast full of teeth and pointy claws erupting forth. It's upward sprouted wings fluttered noisily for a moment before it settled its 'gaze' on him and crawled over.

Gordon cocked an eyebrow at it. "Antlion?" he asked politely.

It brought up a pointy arm-claw-type thing, and Gordon reached for his crowbar. And then the thing exploded into a luminous green cloud, the subtle breeze just strong enough to blow the almost evaporated remains onto Gordon's suit. Looking down, he found it a suitably garish shade of green from the crotch down. It looked like he had soiled himself in a very weird way. Barney, no doubt, would have found it hilarious.

Another creature popped up behind him and another on the other side of the toppled car. He avoided the slashes of one while another burst from the ground. The mounted machineguns from both sides of the dock crackled angrily, sending those Antlions the way of their earlier comrade.

"_Get that car upright and get the hell out of here!"_

He whipped his gaze around and up to the magnet's control booth, a firm scowl wrinkling his usually mild face. Wordlessly, Gordon turned and brought the Gravity Gun up. With a few bursts (and a few misses), the buggy was once again on all four wheels. Gordon leapt in, tucking the Gravity Gun off to the side so that it wouldn't interfere with gear changes.

He pressed the ignition button beside the wheel and was surprised at how powerful the tiny engine sounded. Grasping the wheel, he shoved it into gear, released the handbrake on his left and accelerated away across the beach. Antlions emerged from the sand as he bounced along, some tapping up to him on their pointy insect legs while some flew at him. He considered reaching for the Tau cannon, but was quickly dissuaded from that when they slammed straight into the framework of the buggy and promptly crushed themselves to death. It seemed that even though they were bigger than Earth insects, they weren't any stronger or tougher physically.

It was good to know.

It was only then that Gordon realised he had no idea where he was going. Glancing around as he sped along to a rocky hill ahead of him, Gordon saw nowhere he could drive. The coast was on his right, and very high walls leading to docks on his left. Looked like the rocky hill was it. But… surely it wasn't. For a start, it seemed to steep, and on top of that there were rocky outcroppings poking out at every opportunity to block his path.

But then he was driving up it. The car crashed and thudded from rock to rock, engine struggling to make it up the deceptively steep hillside. A button caught Gordon's attention on the rather bare dashboard. It was red.

With a shrug, Gordon pushed it.

The engine revved, regardless of where his feet were on the pedals, and the buggy promptly fired on ahead, rocketing up the hill and onto the road that ran across in front of him. Unfortunately, it continued onwards, heading for an old shack on the other side of the road.

Gordon managed to turn the car and move onwards down the road as the speed burst calmed down, the engine quieting to a low rumble once again. He sighed in relief, and made a note to not press that button unless a person he _really _didn't like was stood in front of the car. Or several.

Looking back, he saw that the road led to a collapsed bridge. It would only have taken him back to the docks, anyway. And so, it seemed the ominously dark tunnel in front of him was the way to go. A light shone from the other end, indicating a nice, simple straight line to Gordon. He revved the buggy. Straight lines sounded nice.

Slamming the handbrake down, he launched away down the tunnel, feeling pretty damn cool as he went. At least in the dark he could pretend he was driving something slightly more respectable than a buggy.

It roared out of the tunnel within a few moments, Gordon's jerky gear changing getting better with each time. The bridge ahead didn't look particularly worthy - considering it was collapsed in the middle and all - so Gordon decided to head down the rocky hill beside him, taking him down to the sandy ground below. The buggy thudded along without complaint, and Gordon's opinion of the seemingly shaky vehicle went up.

Gordon drove along the coast for awhile, turning as landmasses blocked his path and demanded he take some other route. Antlions periodically charged at him, but always ended up either bouncing off the frame or splattering gorily against it (or both). Others missed him and attempted to fly after him. Cautious, nervous glances over his shoulder informed Gordon that Antlions couldn't fly for extended periods of time, although they could go rather high. All things that he take note of for future survival. Or the book he was thinking of writing when this was all over.

'How I survived Black Mesa and City 17 and Learned to Start Loving the Bomb'.

Although he wasn't sure if anyone even knew who Peter Sellers _was _anymore. It would be a shame if that were true.

The swerving, vague path he found himself on eventually took him up some rocky mounds before bringing him a large, thick outcropping of rock with a house situated at the end. Probably a fisherman's place, though he couldn't be sure. Gordon never really used to visit places like this in his time off. His time off was usually filled with either more equations and theories or running around a track. Rather sad when he thought about it, since it was doubtful he was ever going to get 'time off' again. He wasn't sure if job titles like 'The One Free Man' and 'The Opener of the Way' came with things like vacation time.

Something shook the ground beneath the buggy's wheels, if only slightly. A tall metallic construct stood proudly quite a few yards from the house, almost blocking Gordon's path. Wary of Antlions, he pulled over beside the device. It reminded Gordon of the citadel, particularly with the dark blue metal that didn't seem to reflect the sunlight so much as absorb it. Part of the device thudded down to the ground, a cloud of dust permeating into the air with each strike.

A familiar flapping noise came from behind, and Gordon revved up the buggy. Then the Antlion squealed as the tall device let loose another blow to the ground. Looking over at the insectoid creature, Gordon saw it back-pedal, looking frightened and repulsed at the same time. He looked to the device and smiled.

Say hello to Thumpers.

Gordon was tempted to check inside the house, but wasn't sure how far the Thumper's influence extended. He also didn't trust the ominous building to not contain some terrible beast that he had never encountered before and could throw him through a wall or something equally as irritating.

So, Gordon revved the buggy and was away, delicately navigating his way through two tall white picket fences. The sheer normality of it made Gordon ache a little.

He continued on for what had to be a good ten minutes before he came across civilisation again, this one looking far more robust than the house before. A large barn lay in front of the house, which had a wooden ramp leading up to decking that seemed to run all the way around it. Movement through one of the windows attracted Gordon's attention. A Thumper was positioned near the barn. Gordon crunched to a halt beside it, tyres kicking up far more dirt than the Thumper could manage. He slid out of the chair and fetched the machinegun from the ammo crate on the back.

Checking it was loaded, he made his way towards the ramp. The movement inside concerned him, and he didn't need some overeager Combine recruit reporting him in to base. As much as he felt safer in the buggy, he doubted that feeling would last if he were being chased down by a helicopter. Although he felt somewhat soothed by the thought that he had blown one up earlier. Because, really, what could be worse than a helicopter?

Gordon was mindful of his boots as he crept around the house in a hunched position, head far below the windows. Heading around the corner, he came to a small stoop in front of a door.

Some beeps sounded from inside, quickly followed by the low, crackling voice of a Combine soldier. Or CP. Gordon couldn't really tell the difference. Judging by how he hadn't seen a CP for about twelve hours, however, Gordon decided it was probably a soldier. His words were incoherent anyway, completely muffled by either the gasmask or the radio channel itself. It was very possible that it was encrypted from human ears.

He snuck past the door and to the next window. Taking a deep breath as silently as he could, Gordon allowed himself the barest of peeks through the broken old frame. There was only one soldier that he could see, and he had his back to Gordon. He was concentrating on a device resembling a pair of binoculars that had been mounted on a window. They looked out across the water in front of the house, presumably to penetrate the thick mist that prevented anyone from seeing much of anything beyond a few hundred metres.

But surely there was more than just one…

The door opened, and a soldier stepped out. Gordon whirled and fired in a panic. The soldier hadn't even noticed he was there by the time the bullet rushed through his head and spat blood out the other side. He went down like a ton of bricks, slumping to his knees before lolloping over onto the ground.

_That _seemed to get the other soldier's attention.

After some frenzied and loud commands over the radio, everything was silent. Wind howled, and the waves roared lazily.

Reaching for the dead soldier, Gordon plucked a grenade from his belt and pulled the pin. He poked his head around the open door for just the briefest of seconds to throw it.

Apparently, the briefest of seconds was enough time for a Combine soldier to kick someone in the head rather viciously. And so it was with Gordon, tumbling onto his back and losing his grip on the live grenade. It tumbled off the ledge and to the sandy ground far below, landing beside a beached old canoe. Gordon and the soldier brought their machineguns to bear as the grenade exploded, sending chunks and splinters of wood smashing through the air.

Gordon felt the heat and the pain on the back of his neck, but right now, that wasn't really his focus. The soldier was aiming at his head. If Gordon fired on him, he was a dead man. If he didn't fire, he was a dead man.

After a moment's consideration, Gordon balled his arms around his head and rolled away. The bullets thudded painfully against his HEV suit protected arms, threatening to knock them from their shielded position more than a few times before he managed to get to his feet and sprint his way around the house. He almost fell off the smooth, downward ledge he found there. Of course, the beach wasn't _that _far down. Under any other circumstances, it would have just been annoying if he had fallen down there. But with a Combine soldier on his ass? Best not to make himself a sitting duck.

He decided to make a run for the car. And he was about to do just that when another soldier popped around the corner to greet him. So. One on either side, and the only way out was down and to make himself target practice.

Gordon sighed.

Someone apparently heard him, because the soldier on his right suddenly screamed and fell down to the beach, most decidedly dead. The rattling purr of an Antlion sounded from around the corner, and Gordon headed right for it, machinegun at the ready. He heard the other soldier emerging from behind him just as he sprinted his way around the opposite side, blasting away the Antlion as he went. The house must have been far enough away from the Thumper.

Which _had _been good news for Gordon a few seconds ago. Now, not so much.

A crowd of Antlions sat between him and his buggy. They seemed to find Combine soldiers more offensive, however, because as soon as his would-be executioner came around the other side of the house, they were upon him. Of course, that might have had more to do with the fact that he had immediately opened fire on them more than any kind of personal qualm.

Gordon took that moment to sneak around the house the long way and slip into the house via one of the windows. The Gravity Gun made the endeavour far more awkward than it needed to be, and Gordon wondered why he didn't throw it through the window first and them climb through himself. Then again, common sense and 'Oh God, it's the End of the World' situations didn't exactly go hand in hand.

He grunted and straightened his glasses as he looked around the room. There didn't seem to be much of a value here. Listening intently, Gordon heard the Antlions enjoying their feast. He would have to make this quick. Walking to the binoculars at the window, he allowed himself a quick peek inside the glowing blue lenses. A blue haze was cast over the settlement he saw, a large multi-storey house blasted open at the top, the innards exposed to the world.

Several citizens stood around two warehouses beside the large house, others hanging around a deck that stretched out a few yards into the water and the rowing boat tethered up beside it. But he wasn't looking at any of that. Something on a balcony of the house had immediately snatched his attention.

Him. Him, standing there and seeming so out of place Gordon just wanted to scream at the others and ask them why they couldn't see it, why they couldn't see the alien-ness and sheer _wrong­­_-ness of Him. In any case, He was talking to some short man with a thick moustache and tiny hands, his coat looking far too bulky for him. They didn't seem to be arguing or disagreeing. It just looked like an ordinary conversation, like they were old acquaintances meeting on the street.

Gordon wanted to stay much longer, wanted to watch, to see what He did. Snarling from behind him quickly dissuaded that notion. Gordon whirled around, gun blazing in a wide arc of fire that cleared a dead and injured path through the gang of Antlions that had gathered there. He charged out of the door, past the house and almost fell down the ramp before he reached the Thumper.

Suitably disgruntled, those Antlions that _had _been in pursuit of him quickly changed their tunes and abruptly turned away.

Frustrated and once more desperately seeking some answers, Gordon slumped into the car and drove off, viciously hitting the gas once he was away. He had become complacent. He had started thinking about rebels and causes and zombies and pretty daughters of old friends and forgotten what was really important here. The world had been destroyed, laid waste, raped, and He knew about everything. _He _knew what was going on, how it had happened, why it had happened, and how it could be stopped.

And Gordon needed, completely, absolutely _needed_ to know what _the hell _was so important about _Gordon fucking Freeman_. So important that he be singled out above all others and saved from that hellhole that was Black Mesa.

Blasting past the scenery, Gordon barely slowed when he saw the Combine van parked outside of another barn, Thumper working diligently as two soldiers approached the Antlions he could hear inside. Rather than stop, Gordon simply gunned the accelerator and mowed them down, sending them hurtling into the air behind him. He continued on, the jostling of the buggy on the even ground doing nothing to dislodge his recovered sense of purpose.

After about half an hour, he realised he had circumnavigated his way to the rebel encampment he had been looking at before. The man who had been talking to Him. He could still be here.

A greying, wrinkled citizen with plenty of fire and excitement in his eyes waved Gordon over.

"Gordon Freeman!"

Cautious about running over the man's feet, Gordon pulled over and slowly came to a halt beside him. Switching off the engine, he looked to the man expectantly. He tried to ignore the adoring stares he was getting from every single person scattered around the camp.

"Hurry, get in the basement. We're expecting gunships at any moment." He smiled cockily, as if the Combine was going to be sorry now that Gordon Freeman was here. All it did was scare him. "Colonel Cubbage will be glad to see you made it!"

Small machinegun clutched in his hands, the man took off past Gordon, heading for the tall house Gordon had spied from across the water. There didn't seem to be any front door, but some stairs led down to a small nook hidden down the right-hand side of the building, presumably leading to the basement.

Gordon glanced back to the car, reluctant to leave it if some flying war machine was on the way. With a speed that irritated him for some reason, three citizens had already gathered around the vehicle, pushing it towards a fairly big garage on the other side of the clearing. They all looked at him like hopeful children as they went, desperate for approval.

With an unsure frown, he gave them a thumbs up. They chattered amongst themselves excitedly, seemingly happy about the gesture.

No-one had ever wanted his approval before. Most of the time it was a struggle to get people to pay attention. The word 'disconcerting' didn't quite cover it.

"Dr Freeman! This way!"

He looked back to the citizen who had become his tour guide, still stood in the small passageway that would take him to Colonel Cubbage. Was that who He had been talking to?

Nodding, he followed along, pursuing him around the corner and into the dingy, wide basement. Only a few old light bulbs lit the place, murky shadows shading every corner. At the far end of the room, the portly man with the moustache and small hands held up a rocket launcher for all to see. 'All' being two clueless looking citizens and a Vortigaunt that wouldn't stop staring at him.

Standing in front of a large map and beside a table with the same kind of radio equipment Gordon had spied at Leon's outpost, a boasting, exaggerated English accent emerged from the man's lips.

"This steerable rocket launcher is out best bet for taking down a gunship."

Everyone took that moment to notice he had entered the room. Looking around, Gordon saw that his tour guide had since abandoned him.

"Ah, hello!" the man boomed. "I'll be right with you. Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Using the laser guide," he elaborated, pointing to a lens at the end of the launcher, "you can steer your rocket past the gunship's defences and prevent it from shooting down your rocket. This will only anger it at first-"

The rebels exchanged worried glances.

"-but, if you can survive long enough to make several direct hits, you'll be rewarded with a prize worthy of any mantelpiece." He had since taken to petting the weapon like an ailing dog, and promptly cleared his throat when he noticed people staring. "Now, who's going to be the lucky one to carry it into combat?"

He lifted the weapon into the air like a mythical object. Silence permeated the very walls. There wasn't even a peep from outside. To be honest, Gordon didn't really care about the damned rocket launcher. He had other questions, so he came forward to ask them.

"Ah. Gordon Freeman. I couldn't have asked for a finer volunteer." He stuffed the rocket launcher into Gordon's open arms before he could say much of anything.

The man did a grand little bow for him. Now that he was closer, Gordon was positive the thick, ginger moustache was fake.

"Colonel Odessa Cubbage, at your service."

Gordon took a breath.

Then the klaxons sounded. The rebels looked to each other and then quickly vacated the basement, heading up some stairs to the lighter floors above. The distant cry of 'gunship' rang from outside, and Gordon's demeanour darkened considerably.

Cubbage, meanwhile, looked like he had soiled himself. "…damn. Let me just send a warning to Lighthouse Point, and then I'll be right up to lend a hand!" A decisive finger swooped into the air.

The derisive snort was hard to hold back, but a rebel beat him to it before vanishing up the stairs. Gordon turned his back on the Colonel and made to follow.

"Remember, use the launcher's laser guide to steer your rocket past the gunship's defences."

He glared at him. "I know, you already said."

The Colonel looked taken aback by the response, as though surprised Gordon could even speak. "Ah. Well, yes. Quite. Just so you do, dear boy."

Gordon didn't even bother watch him return to the radio as he thundered up the stairs.

Something exploded outside, and Gordon heard the choppy, high pitched blasts coming from the gunship.

This floor didn't really have any significant vantage points. However, he did find some crates with several bright orange rockets lying haphazardly around it. After tucking as many as he could under his arms, Gordon made for the next flight of stairs and to the second floor.

The wall and most of the ceiling was missing. The balcony he had spied the Man and Cubbage chatting on lay in front of him, tempting him outside. Fires licked the air just out of sight, blocked by the ledge of the balcony.

Clearing his throat, Gordon loaded a rocket into the front of the launcher and put his glasses to the eyepiece. He quickly found that looking through the sight was _somewhat _difficult with the rather thick spectacles on. And considering he was mostly blind without them, well… that would make shooting this thing down interesting, to say the least.

The white beast of a helicopter roared past, oblivious to his presence. It glistened in the sun as it's thick bullets sprayed all over the base. Gordon stepped out onto the balcony and brought the rocket launcher up. Hell, he had taken down helicopters before. Well, a _helicopter_, at least. He could blow up an alien one.

Hopefully.

He fired and stumbled as the small missile blasted off from the launcher, leaving a thick white trail behind it. Luckily, the gunship had been in a pretty straight line with him, so there wasn't much fancy navigating to be done before it collided rather viciously with the thing's side.

Gordon loaded another rocket.

The gunship roared in pain and surprise, it's otherwise smooth course knocked awry by the force of the blast. It's erratic, violent movements giving it the air of something quite pissed off, it flipped around so that it's nose was facing towards him.

He fired again, just as the creature did the same. The rocket exploded halfway to the gunship, tumbling down to the ground before exploding against the roof of the garage.

Gordon scowled. His car was in there. This thing was gunning for his car.

His. _car_.

He threw himself off the balcony and into the room as the gunship strafed past, a constant stream of fire following him. Those projectiles, whatever they were, could blast through the walls like paper. Without a way to recharge, he wasn't too keen on seeing how much of them the HEV suit could take.

Two rockets were left, resting idly on the wooden floor beneath him. He snatched one up and shoved it into the launcher. He got to his feet from the kneeling position he had been in and darted to the balcony, aiming the launcher in the direction the gunship had been heading. It had begun a gradual turn, cannon blasting away before it had even begun pointing at the base again.

"Someone's eager," he muttered.

Gordon fired and watched the rocket careen towards the gunship. It noticed as well, cannon whirling around to meet it. With a slight tip of the wrist, Gordon guided the missile up and around the fire. Smiling, he sent it spiralling towards the gunship, the bullets it fired off missing over and over again. Finally, the missile exploded against the front of the beast, sending it groaning and tumbling backwards.

Several rebels whooped loudly from below. Gordon couldn't help but agree. He went back inside and fetched the last missile. Poking his head out of the gap in the wall, Gordon watched the gunship recover itself. Except this time, it didn't seem interested in him. It was focusing on something on the ground below. Setting his attention down, Gordon's blood ran cold as he saw his tour guide rebel lying beside a smoking, burning old pickup truck, heavily bleeding leg preventing his escape.

Looking around, Gordon couldn't tell if any of the others had spotted him. But the gunship had, and a line of fire was gradually making it's way for the rebel, kicking up dust and dirt like an underground monster as it approached him.

Not a thought passed through Gordon's head as he leapt from the balcony, dropped two floors and hit the ground with painful speed, his ankles almost giving out from the impact. He was sure _something _was broken down there, since his HEV suit was beeping and warning him about something or other. Ignoring it, he ran and skidded to a halt in front of the semi-conscious citizen, standing in the line of fire.

He aimed the rocket, and pulled the trigger. It barely had time to realise it shift it's focus from the rebel to the rocket before it smashed headlong into the monster, finally cracking the smooth white shell and sending it spiralling out to sea, roaring the entire time. Explosions burst out all over the creature before it finally shattered just above sea level, the final popping explosion sending fragments of the beast out in all directions. Some semi-circular part of it came whirling out towards the base, smashing against the top of the pickup truck before rebounding off the wall of the house and landing smoking on the ground beside Gordon.

Gordon barely noticed it, and had spent most of his time knelt beside the bleeding rebel.

"Are you all right?"

The man didn't seem to be lucid. He just stared up at Gordon with eyes of varying width and depth.

"I'll take him, Doctor Freeman."

He looked up at the female medic, grubby face smiling shyly at him as she politely tried to jostle him out of the way. Gordon was fine with that. His knowledge of medicine was precarious at best.

"Thank you," he said.

A gruff voice blasted out from behind him, and Gordon had to stop himself from jumping as he faced the grinning rebel. "No, thank _you, _man! That was awesome!"

Feeling awkward, Gordon cleared his throat. "Um… yes. I'll just…" he pointed back to the house, over the man's shoulder, "…yeah."

The rebels that had gathered let him go, content to help out with rebuilding the base. Their desperate voices rang out behind him as he went.

"Hey, I'll get your car out for you, Dr Freeman!"

"I'll help!"

"Kiss-ass."

He sighed, still heading for the basement.

Cubbage was on the radio as he stepped inside, although he had only just seemed to give up on that particular endeavour. Gordon tossed the rocket launcher to a comfortable looking couch in the corner of the basement.

"Well… that's that." Cubbage looked to Gordon with a look of unconvincing weariness, as though _he _had been the one to just face off against the gunship. "I gather you disposed of that gunship, Doctor Freeman. Your reputation, sir, is well deserved."

"Well. Thanks for that." It came out rather pointedly. It was time to discuss the business of Cubbage talking to Him on the balcony earlier on. And he would be damned if he was going to get brow-beaten into leaving before he got his answers.

"Uh…" the Colonel (although Gordon doubted that rank) looked to the Vortigaunt in the corner before continuing on. "I shall have someone open the gate for you immediately so that you can drive on. I understand Doctor Vance is in great need. Use extreme caution when approaching the bridge. Radio silence from that outpost leads me to believe it has come under Combine control. Still, you're clearly the right man for the job." He grinned. "You'll make it through if anyone can!"

Gordon opened his mouth to speak.

"Farewell."

"Thank you, but-"

"And please tell Doctor Vance that Colonel Cubbage regrets not having been able to rescue him in person." He gave a little bow with the statement, as though that would make him seem all the more gallant and heroic instead of the little coward Gordon was quickly suspecting him to be.

"I have some questions," Gordon said quietly, his voice almost a growl.

"Oh? Um…" he stopped to clear his throat. "What about?"

A scowl knotted Gordon's brow. What the hell was this guy trying to pull? Did he _honestly _think Gordon would stay for anything else? His friend, mentor… his _father figure _was being held captive, and Cubbage thought Gordon would waste his time with anything less than-

And that was when Gordon realised what _was _important.

As though sensing this, a gravel-laden voice muttered, "The Freeman must now hurry on." The Vortigaunt didn't move forward as it spoke, content to wait in the corner as it spoke to Gordon. "The Eli Vance is held in distress most dire."

The scientist's glare never left the diminutive Colonel in front of him, whose false moustache had started to peel at the sides from his sweat.

"Is there reason for delay?" the alien continued, sounding more naïve than Gordon believed it was.

He looked from the Cubbage to the Vortigaunt and back again, jaw set in anger at the position he was in.

He shook his head, hazel eyes firmly locked on Cubbage as he spoke. "No. There isn't."

"W-well…" Cubbage managed, "you're welcome to rest for a while before you leave, old chap."

"Thank you," he said, deathly quiet. "I think I will."

He turned with only the barest of nods to the Vortigaunt, heading for the couch in the corner. Planning to sleep for about half an hour and then be off, Gordon sat down and promptly found himself in a HEV induced coma.

Images swirled around him. The Black Mesa Test Chamber, Barney's greying temples, Alyx's-

But something harsh and grey cut into the pleasant images swirling around Gordon's subconscious. A corridor, not unlike the hundreds he had walked, run and crawled down in Black Mesa. Dressed in the cobbled together clothing reminiscent of the rebels, a man lay dead against the wall beside him, bleeding horrifically. And stood in front of him, with his back to him-

His back to him?

It certainly looked like Him, but Gordon couldn't be sure. But over his shoulder, standing in His line of sight…

A soldier. The same camouflage fatigues and gasmask as the dozens of soldiers Gordon had fought and killed at Black Mesa. Just as Gordon's face wrinkled in disgust, he could practically feel the hate seething from the soldier. The Man started to turn towards him, and Gordon wondered yet again if it actually was Him, or some figment of his subconscious mind reacting to actually having sleep again.

But the fact that he was actually thinking these thoughts indicated it wasn't a dream state. Didn't it?

As the supposed Man's face started to emerge from the shadows, Gordon awoke with a start. His HEV suit blithered on about increased levels of something or other, but he didn't care. He was still trying to catch his breath. Blinking, he heaved himself out of the couch. Cubbage was at the table beside the radio, looking over a map with the Vortigaunt. Not wanting to speak to the man again, Gordon pushed himself up and left the room.

True to their word, the rebels had taken the buggy from the garage and had parked it in front of some large gates beside the house that had somehow gone unnoticed by Gordon until now. After briefly trying to find some peace on the pier to sort through his thoughts, a hastily shouted reminder from Cubbage pushed him on his way.

He walked back to the car and dropped himself in. A rebel rest against one of the road barriers, looking for all the world as though he medically required a cigarette.

"How long was I down there?" he asked, trying to make it sound like a normal question.

He failed miserably, judging by the look on the rebel's face. "Um… a few minutes?"

Gordon closed his eyes and sighed. A few minutes. He had been running on adrenaline and fake morphine for a day and a night now, and all his body could come up with was a few minutes sleep?

"Thank you," he murmured, returning his attention to the road. A rebel stood on the other side of the road yanked a handle down on a control panel beside him, and the gates opened up in front of Gordon with a shaky metallic groan.

"Drive safely," he said cheerily.

He directed the scowl straight ahead. Was that meant to be funny? Slamming down the clutch, Gordon worked the rest of the controls with matching ferocity until he was away, alone on the road once again. The steady thrum of the engine was more comforting somehow. The blocked off tunnel ahead of him was not.

However, a rather unsteady looking downward slope of rocks on the left took Gordon into a grassy path that widened and thinned as he drove through the surprisingly deep canyon. The grass gradually gave way to sand before the canyon opened up into a grand ravine, a tall bridge running across in front of Gordon, collapsed at the left-hand side.

Something exploded out of the sandy ground ahead of him as he passed beneath the archway of the bridge.

_Ah, Antlions. How I have missed you._

The vicious little bastards predictably rebounded and splattered against the car, coating him fresh green blood. And the dirt and sand had just started to make it fade, too. He splashed over the shallow remains of a lake as he approached what looked like some old loading docks. Although he doubted many people had approached them in a car from this angle before. A crane with the incredibly huge magnet attached caught Gordon's eye. Since there didn't seem to be any ramps for vehicles, it looked like it might be a solution to a possible upcoming problem.

Two Combine soldiers ran in the distance, sprinting with purpose towards a deactivated Thumper beside some hastily erected wooden ramps that would take them up to the docks. Antlions slashed and hurled themselves at the soldiers, the pair barely managing to hold their own. Gordon moved the buggy until he was confident he was on a straight line, and then gunned the red turbo button.

Nobody, Combine and Antlion alike, had any idea what hit them. Gordon came to a skidding halt beside the Thumper as more Antlions unearthed themselves behind him and Combine radio chatter crackled from above. He climbed up the ladder to a small control panel and slammed a palm down on the button. With a few beeps, a light flash green in front of him, and the Thumper slammed down into the ground. The familiar distressed squeals of the Antlions signalled their retreat, and Gordon allowed himself a smile at his handiwork.

Bullets ricocheted above his head, sparks fluttering over him like rain. Gordon slid down the ladder and underneath the ramps.

Gordon added another note for inclusion in his book; when tempted to take time to smile at your accomplishments - DON'T. The ammo crate of the car had ended up close enough to him that he could reach inside and pull out the small machinegun, which he now realised from markings on the side was an MP5. Interesting what one's eyes were drawn to when they were hiding underneath a dried out pier.

Sunlight bore down through the gaps in between planks above him, and Gordon saw a shadow pass over a crack on his left, lingering there for the moment. He positioned himself beneath it and opened fire, blasting up through the planking and tearing several new holes in the soldier there.

He dared a quick peek out of the side of the pier, looking up and hoping there wouldn't be a gun pointed at his face waiting for him. Finding none, he swung himself around and back out into the open, clambering up onto the ramps and hurtling up onto the docks themselves. A small storage warehouse in front of him blocked his view of another higher level just behind it. Two soldiers ran past on the upper level, firing away as they went. Gordon ducked behind the warehouse as the bullets chipped away at the white brickwork.

Gordon ran around to the other side and quickly backtracked when he saw the second soldier positioned on the upper level in line with him. The bullets smashed through the wooden planking beneath Gordon's feet as he narrowly managed to get himself back under cover again.

His foot tapped against a barrel as he considered his options. He looked down to the rusting blue object, and smiled. Tucking the MP5 under his arm, Gordon swung the Gravity Gun around and plucked up the barrel, holding it in front of him as a shield. Moving around the corner and crouching as much as possible, he slowly started making his way forward, the bullets clanging noisily against the metal of the barrel.

He waited until he was at the end of the warehouse, with the smallest of gaps of open air between him and the ladder that would take him up to the level above. Aiming up, he fired the barrel at the soldier in front of him. Seeing it coming, he managed to duck out of the way. His comrade on the far left was distracted enough for Gordon to yank his machinegun out and blast a few holes in his head and neck, taking him out of play.

Clambering up the ladder, Gordon paused as he reached the top, the Combine soldier who had neatly ducked the barrel now pressing his own MP5 to Gordon's temple. He grabbed onto the soldier's arm and let himself drop down, bringing him tumbling down to the small 'corridor' of space between the warehouse and the ladder. Gordon managed to land on his feet beside the soldier, who landed on his side, his grip on the MP5 holding steadfast.

Slamming his foot down on the weapon, Gordon whipped out the crowbar and slashed the jagged end through the soldier's mask. A grunt was all the soldier could offer before he collapsed back into unconsciousness. The flat, empty tone that emitted from his radio indicated that perhaps it was somewhat worse than unconsciousness. Gordon tried not to look at how pallid and near-white the flesh was beneath the mask, instead concentrating on climbing up the ladder and reaching his next destination.

Said destination seemed to be another pier at the far end of the one on which he stood, the two linked together by a raised drawbridge. A large warehouse on the other pier would presumably allow him access to some area beyond and hopefully to a road. His gaze travelled to another bridge on his left ahead of him, and he increased his pace. The concrete bridge took him to the base of the crane he had spied earlier.

He clambered up the not inconsiderable height of the ladder without thinking, vertigo only kicking in when he reached the top and stepped out onto the platform running around the crane.

Wow. That was… pretty high.

His grip on the walkway's guardrail tightened considerably as he walked around it, looking for the way to get into the cockpit of the crane. A ladder almost smacked him on the forehead as he walked. Climbing up, Gordon became aware of a mechanical whining noise coming from the other pier. The warehouse gate was opening as several soldiers piled out, impatiently ducking beneath it before it was fully open.

They sporadically took cover behind the three shipping containers that had been left to rot on the dock, taking pot-shots at him with their (rather inaccurate at long range, Gordon realised) MP5s. The bullets ricocheted and sparked wildly against the metal of the crane as he clambered into the control booth. Sitting himself in the chair, he suddenly found himself surrounded by levers on both side. Fortunately, the glass seemed thick, so he was safe to practice for a few minutes. At least until the soldiers lowered the bridge and came to get him.

Ah, so… _that _lever moved the crane from left to right, this lever lowered the magnet up and down, _that _one activated it…

He smiled as he realised something. Industrial magnet. Metal shipping containers.

This was going to be sweet.

Swinging the crane around and enjoying the sheer power it gave him, Gordon snatched up the container that was furthest to the left, catching it at one end. The magnet groaned loudly as it lifted the container with seeming ease, the soldiers hiding behind it staring up in a panic as they realised what was coming. Whirling the crane around to the right, Gordon dragged the container along, smashing it against the other two and crushing half a dozen soldiers between the three of them. He continued going until both of the containers had tumbled down into the gap between piers.

So. That was that. Soldiers done with. It was a little frightening, actually. How easy it had been to take half a dozen lives. Although killing in general had been much easier than he had thought it would be. It made him wonder why people needed to train to become good at such things. The whole thing always seemed so simple to him. A duck here, a slash or a bullet there…

He blinked and got back to work.

_Disturbing musings later, Gordon._

Magnetic grasp still firmly on the remaining container, he threw it along until it crashed into the bridge, which up to this point had been standing upright. After swaying precariously in the air for a moment, the bridge tumbled, slamming down into place with an almighty bang that he was sure couldn't have gone unnoticed.

With that in mind, he swung the crane around and concentrated on fetching his car. Hopefully it wouldn't be so far away that he would have to go back down and drive to a more convenient location.

It didn't take too long to lift the car up and place it delicately on the pier, and before long he was heading back down from the crane and making his way across the bridge. As he stepped in front of the open gateway of the warehouse, more gunshots sent him stumbling back and onto his rear, an embarrassing manoeuvre he realised he hadn't executed in some time. Rubbing the bruised muscle, he was somewhat glad for that fact.

The car was in the line of fire, but if he could reach it…

He lifted the MP5 and gripped it tighter. Running out, he ducked his head and fired wildly into the warehouse, making a leap to reach the vehicle before they could respond in kind. The buggy had been placed across from the entrance, providing quite a bit of cover for him. Gordon tossed the smaller gun aside, and reached for the mounted Tau cannon.

Gordon was _fairly _sure the soldiers had no idea what had hit them, judging by the fact that only one of them managed to get a shot off before being blasted halfway across the warehouse and through a large crate.

Upon further exploration of the now thoroughly wrecked warehouse, Gordon found another gate on the left wall, but a control booth at the far end opened that up for him. Lightly jogging back to his car, Gordon allowed himself the brief pleasure of simply listening to the sound of the waves and wind around him. Strange.

He put his MP5 back in the ammo crate and slipped back into the buggy. Moving slowly at first, he navigated the car through the warehouse and out the other side before gunning it up the ramp he found there. It took him out into a courtyard, shipping containers stacked up on the left and another warehouse on the right, this one rather open ended. A ramp inside the warehouse led to some rather large and fragile looking windows. The way forward, Gordon guessed.

A resounding bang echoed through the air, and Gordon watched a red flare shoot up into the sky before fizzling out countless miles above him. Three soldiers suddenly appeared from some stacked barrels and crates just beside the entrance to the warehouse at the far end.

But Gordon knew they were weren't meant to be his killers. They were a delay tactic before the gunship arrived. He moved as fast as the buggy would allow, lining up the jump and gunning the turbo before ducking his head on the way over. Even with his eyes clenched shut, he could feel the car leave the ground and hurtle through the air before smashing through the windows, landing on the road on the other side with an expected series of vicious jolts.

Whipping his head up, Gordon adjusted his askew glasses and his course before heading off down the only direction available to him; the right. Gunshots rang out behind him; or more flares, he couldn't tell. All he knew was that he was away again, and at speed. The faster it got him to Eli, the better.

But then that metallic groan filled the air, and Gordon knew what he would find bearing down on him even before he cast his gaze upwards. A gunship, travelling overhead. The road took him up and around to the right, bringing him to a long since destroyed bridge that linked two sides of a rather deep ravine. Down below, the dark waters were still, but still no less deadly from this height.

The gunship seemed to be heading for the bridge. Gordon gunned the turbo again, and the engine roared in disapproval at being pushed to the brink two times in a row. It flew across the chasm just as the gunship ploughed through, the back of the buggy catching on the side of the white metallic beast and sending it twirling to the ground. The speed at which it hit the ground sent it tumbling end-over-end before it finally wound up on its side against the rock face beside the road.

Gordon groaned quietly and once more adjusted his glasses. Another cry from the gunship propelled him onward. He grasped onto the frame of the car, yanking himself out before collapsing onto the road, tired and in pain. The gunship was coming around for another pass.

On the road ahead that bent around the cliff-side to the left, old cars from years gone by had piled up, blocking the way even if his car _hadn't _just been forcibly crashed.

He picked up his hobbling pace as the gunship started firing, ducking down behind a rusted green car for cover. The force of whatever bullets the gunship was using nudged the car along in front of him, and Gordon had to crawl back to avoid getting pinned underneath. Another roar from the gunship signalled it whirling around, putting enough distance between itself and Gordon that it would be able to get a long bout of firing in before it passed over him again.

Climbing up onto the preciously hollow sounding bonnet of the car, Gordon started looking for anything he might use. An old pickup truck with propane tanks piled up in the back seemed to be his only option. Why had he left the damned rocket launcher with Cubbage?

He jumped down from the car as the gunship turned again. He was between two cars, a green one behind and a blue one in front of him. The gunship seemed to have spotted the pickup full of propane as well and opened fire. They exploded instantly on impact, the chain reaction of all of the canisters exploding almost instantaneous. A small red car that had been wedged beside the truck was flung through the air by the explosion, twirling towards him through the air.

Gordon didn't even have time to move before it came crashing down on his head.

Then there was darkness.

Unlike his little nap at Newland Odessa, this blackness was not accompanied by any visions or voices, no swirling images of test chambers and old friends. Just nothing.

A tiny squawk brought him back to the land of the living. Blinking his eyes open, Gordon found a crow staring down at him curiously, tilting it's head as though _he _were the oddity. He wasn't sure why a crow was so near the coast. He didn't particularly care, either. A cursory look around revealed he was lying in the gap between the green and blue cars. Well, there wasn't much of a gap anymore. The impact from the red car must have pushed them together. There was a small crack between the two which allowed sunlight in, and as well as the crow that was no perched on the blue car, staring down at him.

Well, his stats were still working. The HEV suit was approaching seventy percent. Which wasn't too bad, considering.

With some difficulty, Gordon pulled the Gravity Gun around. He couldn't hear the gunship or any soldiers around. The gunship had probably thought him dead from flying red car. Gordon wondered how long he had been out. Judging from the fact he couldn't feel a bruise on his head, it was long enough that the HEV suit had time to heal the not insignificant blow to his head. He berated himself for further delaying his mission to get to Eli. Although, being hit by a car _was_ a good excuse for tardiness, he had to admit.

Wedging the Gravity Gun beneath the blue car, Gordon pressed the primary trigger. With a flash of light and a metallic clang, the car shifted a metre or so. The crow launched itself from the car, squawking angrily. After a few more blasts, Gordon's legs were free, and he heaved himself to his feet.

As suspected, no Combine forces of any sort. He nodded. Good.

Walking back around the corner he had come from, Gordon found the car was still there. Toppled on it's side, but still there. Satisfied, he got to clearing the road and the way to the tunnel he could see ahead. After the helpless stress of being hunted by a flying machine he had no chance of stopping, blasting inert cars was somewhat therapeutic. It took him about ten minutes to clear everything, and another five to get the damned buggy the right way up - it kept moving away from him when he blasted it with the Gravity Gun, and he had to get at just the right angle to it to topple back onto it's wheels.

Sliding back inside the car, Gordon set off, allowing the sounds of the engine and road to wash over him. The wind pretty much blanked out any other sounds, and he was grateful for it.

The road twisted and bent around the cliff-side, most of the road barriers thankfully intact. Some abandoned cars occasionally blocked the way, but a blast or two from the Tau cannon fixed that little problem. Eventually the road took him past an old, rather large house, although Gordon wasn't particularly sure as to what it's purpose might have been before the Combine moved in.

As it was now, it was being used as an ambush point by several soldiers who thought it would be fun to collapse the cliff-side wall on top of him with explosives. A quick blast from the turbo got him past _that _little obstacle, and, with no wish to stick around and play 'who can kill each other fastest' with the soldiers, he hurried on up the road, ducking his head down to avoid the bullets being blasted his way. He wasn't that worried about them radioing ahead; it wasn't like they weren't on red alert anyway. He doubted that many of the Combine forces had actually believed him dead. Although if they _had_… well, more fool them.

Discretion proved the better part of valour as he continued on down the road, eventually crossing a bridge only to come to a stop before a force field blocking the road ahead. Tracking the power cable running from the top of the force field frame via a small gap beside it, Gordon eventually went around several gas station booths and garages before finding a Combine transport van powering it. He used the Gravity Gun to dislodge the cable, which, unsurprisingly, several Combine soldiers inside the van and a small house behind the garage took objection to.

Fortunately, the van was parked beside several petrol dispensers, and a few well aimed shots from the revolver sent the entire complex up in flames. Gordon used the turbo to hurl himself through the black, billowing smoke, the dust from the cloud fogging his glasses a little, but nothing too bad.

His neck was starting to ache, but he wasn't sure why. Probably stress. He rubbed it as best he could as he drove, although it did little to ease the annoying pain.

Five minutes of driving around more twisting, winding roads, Gordon found himself with a clear path up to a large railway bridge crossing the water in front of him. Down below the bridge on the right, a small settlement had been erected. Two bungalows on the left and the right, and a tall multi-storey affair behind the house on the right. But a grassy path was able to take him straight up onto the two track bridge, and, even though the car had a little trouble with the rails, he was comfortable enough as he started to cross it.

Except, of course, for the force field he smashed into while paying more attention to the view from the bridge. And there was no handy little gap beside the frame this time to allow him to find the source. The cable seemed to be dangling down off the side of the bridge, anyway.

So, underneath seemed to be way to go.

Gordon reversed the buggy up off the bridge and down the grassy slope once more, parking it behind a still standing pane of fencing. Hopefully that would stop any curious Combine soldiers from taking it for a little joyride. After snatching up and loading the MP5 and the revolver from the ammo crate, Gordon made his way down to the settlement, hoping he would be able to find a way to cross the bridge and turn off the force field generator without risking life and limb.

"Yeah," he snorted, heading for the closest building to him.

The familiar beep and crackle of Combine radios made him slow his pace considerably, and he ducked into the small storage shed just in front of the door on the side of the flat. MP5 pressed close to him, Gordon counted to three before whirling around, weapon pointed at the door. He slowly crept forward, mindful of his boots crunching against the dry underbrush.

Then the door flew open, and a soldier unlike any Gordon had seen before stared back at him with shotgun raised. The orange lenses of his eyes combined with the black and grey of his uniform made Gordon instantly think 'angel of death'. The red skull printed on his sleeve didn't dissuade from that concept.

Gordon had only a second to take this in before the soldier fired, the force of the blast hitting him almost point blank in the chest and sending him painfully onto his back. Most of the spray had hit the HEV suit, but one had sliced into the side of his neck, and he could feel the warmth of the blood as it saturated the tight collar. Rolling out of the way of the next blast, Gordon managed to get inside the shed before the next spray sent a cloud of dust and sand into the air.

He could hear more soldiers coming, the distinctive tinkle of their zips and chains accompanying their every footfall.

Looking down, Gordon saw a red petrol can. A quick jostle confirmed it still had a fair amount inside. Gravity Gun in hand, Gordon picked up the can and whirled around to meet the shotgun wielding Combine. Several more soldiers had gathered around him, one just about to move around the other side of the shed and trap him.

Gordon fired at the shotgun soldier, knocking the weapon from his hand and splashing petrol all over him and his comrades. It landed with a hollow thud behind them, and Gordon blasted it away with the MP5. Sparks flew, and with a sudden flash of orange and yellow, the soldiers were engulfed in flame. Although not enough to kill them, it was enough to distract them, and that was all Gordon needed. He had mowed them down with the MP5 before the flames had even begun to die out.

He left them to burn there, the distinctive smell of burning flesh curiously absent. Although not one to look a gift horse in the mouth when it came to such things, Gordon couldn't help but wonder why.

After a quick exploration of the other houses yielded no more enemies, Gordon found a sizeable gap in some floorboards in the left-hand side flat. It dropped down to a grassy ridge, which, as Gordon saw when he poked his head down below, led to a door in the side of the base of the bridge. That would seem to be his way ahead.

With shaky, skinny arms being all he had to support him, Gordon slowly lowered himself down, landing in an awkward heap.

A deep, guttural panting came from behind him, and Gordon whirled around, the noise bringing back horrific memories of dark alleyways and screaming, hellish creatures. And there it was. A poison zombie, wailing and stumbling along towards him, weighed down by the countless venomous headcrabs living on it's body.

He considered fighting it, he truly did. But instead, Gordon turned and ran, slamming the door behind him and wedging a chair up against it. How much good that would actually _do_, Gordon didn't know. Rather than waste time waiting for the monster to come along and test the theory, Gordon moved on through a small archway on his right. It took him underneath the bridge, the concrete walkway allowing him an unabashed view of the crashing water on the supporting pillars below.

Gordon hoped this walkway went all the way to the other side.

Unfortunately for him, the walkway led to a small room with a narrow stairwell, which, after zigzagging up a few times, led him to a horrific sight.

The underbelly of the bridge was, as Gordon feared, made up of a crisscross of metal girders woven together like an angular web. And the bridge looked like it was about a mile long, if not longer.

This was certainly going to be fun.

A walkway went around the tower he had stepped from and extended out to beneath the bridge. It seemed to run all the way to the other side of the bridge. He smiled. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

Walking along happily, Gordon nevertheless was rather wary of the edges, having no desire to go for a long dive followed by an even longer swim. The entire bridge echoed and roared with every crash of the waves below. He couldn't see very far out; a low mist had settled on the water near the bridge, blocking his view of anything within a few hundred metres.

His attention was brought crashing back to the walkway in front of him when it suddenly dipped down.

And down.

And down.

Something had managed to dislodge the section of the walkway ahead of Gordon, letting it dangle precariously down at the water below. And the rest of the walkway was too far away for him to jump. He looked over at the massive framework beside him. It steadily curved upwards, making a sort of hill with its' apex in the middle of the bridge. A small platform had been built there, and a helpful little storage shed along with it.

Gordon slowly wormed his foot through the vertical zigzagging girders in front of him, sliding out until he was crouched with a firm grip on the metal bar diagonally above his head.

One foot in front of the other, one foot in front of the other…

A metallic groan shook the bridge, quickly followed by a sort of clattering sound above. Gordon slipped a little, and with the loudest 'Whoa' he had managed in some time, he fell down onto the metal bars in front of him. His head dipped down the gap between girders, treating him to a full on view of the very fatal drop beneath him. The MP5 flew from his grip, tumbling for an incredibly long time before splashing inaudibly into the water.

It was a train. He realised that as the clattering went on for quite a while before eventually dissipating and fading away.

He stared down into the abyss below, his glasses clinging to his face through some miraculous will of their own.

No-one would know if he fell right now. He would simply… be gone. The Combine wouldn't find his body. They wouldn't care. All they would find were dead bodies left in his wake and a parked car, waiting at the other end of the bridge. His friends would never find out what happened, except perhaps through spies and hearsay.

All the more reason to get up, he supposed.

Even though they didn't need it, Gordon pushed the glasses against his face and carefully climbed to his feet. With a caution he hadn't taken for a long time (so far it had been 'fall over and everything will somehow be all right') Gordon slowly began to navigate his way along the enormous climbing frame he found himself on. He had never been fond of those as a child; especially the ones where you had to swing from your arms. Having no upper body strength _whatsoever _might have had something to do with that, mind.

By his reckoning, it took him about an hour to get across. Or, at least, it felt that way. After every near-fall he had waited for a few minutes to catch his breath. And with about five of those such stops along the way…

Well. It had taken him awhile.

But he was on a rather solid walkway now, a fact that he noted with no small amount of relief and satisfaction. He slowly slid his arm down his side and pulled out the revolver. After checking that everything was as it should be with the weapon, Gordon made his way onwards to the open archway in the stone support structure beside him. A large green crate next to him had a rocket launcher silhouette printed on the label.

Good to know.

The concrete walkway in front of him yielded little more results, and (crucially) no soldiers. After another archway straight ahead of him, Gordon saw another that led into a dilapidated old room. On the right but far out of reach of the path on which he was standing, a metal latticework walkway ran around the side of the stone tower in front of him, with a ladder running up to another walkway quite a few feet above. Thick windows there indicated that that was the way to go.

Thumbing back the hammer on the revolver, Gordon made his way into the room ahead of him. The yellow lighting in the two storey room did little to enamour him to the place. Waves crashed outside as he made his way around the fencing in the middle of the room, being especially wary of the floor above him. He hadn't heard any Combine radio signals yet, or any sign of life whatsoever. Maybe this was an unmanned station.

As he stepped out through a doorway and onto the metal walkway, he quickly reconsidered that evaluation, mostly judging from the MP5 that had been shoved in his face.

Darting his head to the side, Gordon just ran straight into the soldier, shoving him and the accompanying soldier behind him back awkwardly. Hand going for his crowbar, he whipped his body up in an uppercut that slashed upwards through the soldier's helmet. Reaching over the inert soldier's body, Gordon brought the revolver to bear and blasted the tackled soldier between the eyes.

Ah. _There _were the Combine radios.

He heard the beeping and distinct crackle of Combine communications above him, coming from the room above that he had spied earlier. He nudged the soldier's bodies overboard before continuing on around the corner, bringing him to the ladder he had spied from the pathway earlier. Latching on, he clambered up with one hand still firmly grasped around his gun.

No-one waiting for him on the walkway above. Interesting. He slowly made his way around the corner, and found several rather large (if thick) windows on the wall beside him, with an open, inviting doorway after them at the end of the walkway. Gordon frowned, sighed, and started running.

The gunfire erupted almost instantly, although, much to Gordon's surprise, the bitter sound of glass shattering was nowhere to be found behind him. Stopping before the doorway, Gordon turned and saw that the very thick glass was, in fact, bullet-proof. Lucky. He whirled around the doorway and fired a shot off, not really expecting to hit anything.

A single soldier leapt out of the way, giving Gordon enough time to check whether there were any more in the room before he ducked his head out again. The bullets rained down on the wall, dirt and chunks of brick peppering the floor.

And then the alarm sounded above him. Gordon looked up, and heard the distinct metallic noise somewhere between a groan and a roar that heralded the approach of a gunship. Knowing his luck, it would be the one that had given him the enforced nap and left him for dead. And it would, no doubt, be pissed off that it had been wrong. Scowl firmly set on his face, Gordon came around the corner again and fired off two shots, the first missing but the second hitting the soldier in the left shoulder. Another shot got him through the mouthpiece of the gasmask.

Turning, Gordon saw a small doorway on the wall beside him and another behind. Poking his head through the one next to him, he found himself on the floor above the yellow-y room; an escape route for later. The other doorway yielded a stairway running up and around the tall, square passage, taking him up to another room with a crate hastily jammed in the doorway.

If only they knew how useless that really was.

He put his gun away and brought out the Gravity Gun. Aiming it at the box, he brought it in front of him and entered the room. Bullets rained into the crate, but he fired before they penetrate. It hit someone dead on, cracking and smashing all over the now unconscious Combine soldier. The other seemed a little surprised at having just watched a floating box enter the room and then slam itself into his comrade. Gordon took the moment to blast the MP5 from the soldier's stunned hands, sending it bouncing against the thick windows behind him.

He came at Gordon with a right hook, which he ducked easily. Slipping the crowbar from it's sheath, he swiped it through the soldier's legs. The soldier was on his back in an instant, and Gordon finished the job with a revolver shot to the head. Gordon checked the gun as he walked to the control panel in the corner of the room. He was out of ammo. Not that it would have done much good against the gunship, but still… the thought that a gun was loaded was enough to reassure him sometimes.

The panel seemed simpler than he had anticipated. A button with a green light above it, and another with a red. The red light was shining irritatingly in his face, so Gordon slammed his palm on the other button. With a few tiny clicks and beeps, the green light shone happily as the red faded. Glass exploded around Gordon as the now officially arrived gunship opened fired on him. Gordon promptly started running.

He skipped several steps at a time as he thundered down the wooden steps and out into the upper floor of the yellow room. Sliding down beneath the gap in the guardrail there, Gordon let himself drop to the floor below. He poked his head out of the archway and checked the skies on either side of the pathway. No gunship to be seen. Taking a few steps back, he hopped up and down on the spot before launching into a full on sprint.

The gunship didn't seem to notice his mad dash until after he had been through the first archway and was almost inside the second. It didn't matter at this point. There was a rocket launcher crate with (presumably) plenty of spare rockets, and with the archway providing plenty of cover, he would be free to-

A few well placed shots from the gunship resulted in a thundering crash from within the room ahead of Gordon, a cloud of dust billowing out as he ran straight into it. Coughing and swiping at the air as he entered, Gordon slowed to a halt and could only be deathly still as he saw the rocket launcher crate, buried in rubble far too heavy for him to move. He scowled.

_Touché, gunship._

The stairs were still available, though, and Gordon quickly made his way up them and to the metal walkway they led to. He promptly stopped when he came to the wonderful view of the underbelly of the bridge. Before, he had had the luxury of his enemies not knowing he was coming. So he could take his time, slowly make his way across and not worry too much about being shot while he walked the proverbial tightrope.

He watched the gunship swirl around in the air beside him and turn to face him.

Now? Not so much time.

Grasping his glasses with one hand, Gordon took a breath and vaulted over the guardrail. He hit the closest girder with a clang, but somehow managed to keep his balance.

Another roar from the gunship pushed him onwards. And upwards, it had to be said. His breathing belaboured as he clambered up to the midway point, Gordon could do nothing to defend himself as the gunship opened fire. The majority of the 'bullets' clanged loudly against the girder 'web' beneath his feet, but two got through, one smacking into his thigh and the other his belly.

Gordon screamed in pain as he was thrown backwards by the power of the weapon. His HEV suit beeped in protest at the sudden impacts, and Gordon couldn't help but agree. Landing with a thud on a girder behind him, his momentum sent him tumbling over the edge, only a last minute swing of his arm saving him from a rather long, rather painful fall.

The pain was _excruciating_. He couldn't remember _ever_ being hit that hard, not even at Black Mesa. Although right now all he could think about was the pain, so maybe that was screwing with his judgement a bit.

Rotor chopping menacingly through the air, the gunship swerved around for another pass. Groaning, Gordon pulled himself up and onto the metal bar above. Gulping air in greedily, he looked to the platform. Nearly there. Caution to the wind, Gordon started running for all he was worth. A few slips aside, he managed to reach it without incident. The gunship opened fire as he lurched into the small storage shed there, the thin glass of the tiny windows exploding onto him and over his shoulders.

The cutting pain of the shards against his face didn't really register; Gordon was content to cradle his belly for the moment. His leg seemed to be healing faster. Or at least, the pain was subsiding quicker. Whether the HEV suit had healed it yet was another matter entirely. He waited for a few moments while his bellyache slowly started to fade. His HEV suit had lost a disturbing amount of power from those hits. Probably better not to have it happen again.

He poked his head out of the doorway and saw the tail end of the gunship disappear behind the shed.

Now or never.

With a huffing noise that sounded disconcertingly like an old man, Gordon heaved himself out of his crouching position and started running for the other end of the bridge. The first girder he stepped on gave way beneath him, yawning down into the chasm below. Gordon managed to latch onto the next girder over, swinging beside it. He uttered a silent curse as the gunship once more found him and started wading towards him, cannon at the ready.

It opened fire as he clambered to his feet, and he leapt onto the platform, the concrete blocking the blasts as the gunship travelled beneath him. Gordon saw the dangling girder and was struck with an idea. He brought the Gravity Gun around and pointed it at the straining bolts that were holding the girder to the rest of the 'web'. The gunship was almost completely beneath him now.

He blasted away at the girder with the primary charge, eliciting flash after flash from the golden crystal embedded at the end. The gunship flew beneath, the weapon on it's front unable to turn upwards and take any shots at him. Gordon stood and fired one more blast at the girder. With one, final groan, it fell, tumbling down and onto the gunship. Predictably, it bounced against the white metal surface of the gunship before crashing into the rotor engine at the back.

A horrific shriek sounded from the beast as the blades were torn apart. Groaning in a manner so very much unlike the angry cries Gordon had heard from it before, the gunship struggled to stay aloft, and, much to it's credit as a violent killing machine, tried to turn and take just a few more shots at him before it crashed into the cliff side at the far end of the bridge.

After a pause of only a few seconds, the gunship exploded. Gordon remembered the poisonous zombie stood around waiting for him there. It probably _hadn't _been wanting a gunship landing on it's head, but what the hell.

Breathing and limbs shakier than before, Gordon slowly scaled the rest of the bridge with little difficulty, winding up back at the cliff side after another twenty minute trip. The scorched remains of the gunship had since tumbled off the path. There was no trace of the zombie, although some Antlion remains concerned him a little. Keeping a keen ear out for any of the trademark fluttering of the nasty creatures, Gordon crept along the path and followed it around the cliff side until it brought him out behind the multi-storey house.

A Combine radio made him duck, and a gunshot made him press his back to the wall. However, after several more sounded along with the squeals of Antlions, he figured he was safe. Peeking around the corner, he watched as roughly half a dozen soldiers did battle with considerably more Antlions. They didn't seem to be winning.

Gordon crept around the back of the house and the flat beside it, moving along as quickly as he could with no thought given to stealth. With the gunshots and screams coming from the clearing, he figured it didn't really matter how much noise _he _made at this juncture. He looked to the fencing his car waited behind, and, after a glance at the warring sides at the far end of the clearing, he decided to run for it. The Gravity Gun bounced along behind him as he went, hitting his legs every so often. No-one seemed to notice him go. The sound of battle behind him, Gordon started up the engine and accelerated onto the rail bridge.

A parked trail of containers and tankers took up the track on the left, but the right was clear. Increasing his speed, Gordon smiled as he once more found himself on the open road.

Then a train honked it's horn. And, out of the mist in front of him, a thin (but no less intimidating for it) train thundered down the rail towards him. Gordon slammed the buggy into reverse accelerated. The train caught up in no time, tickling the front bumper as Gordon reached the beginning of the trailers that took up the other track. With a jerky turn, he managed to wedge the car behind the oil tanker there. He watched with a mix of relief and fascination as the train breezed past. As he waited, he reached to the ammo crate at the back and loaded up the revolver again. The trailers for that train had been very thin as well. He had seen a similar type being sent on their way to Nova Prospekt at the City 17 station, as well.

"_It used to be a high security prison, it's something… much worse than that now."_

He tried not to think about Alyx's shaky voice as he blasted his way down the track and to the other side of the bridge. The tunnel ahead was cut off by a force-field. Part of the stone barrier on the left-hand side had been wrecked, leading down a grassy verge to a ramp of a broken bridge. He had to use the turbo to get up into the tunnel beyond, but the buggy made it.

It wasn't long before he was out in the open air again on a long left turn of a road. Down beneath him on his right was quite a sight. A small town had been tucked away in the corner of the cliff side, completely hidden from view as he had emerged from the tunnel. Gordon wondered if the Combine had managed to sink it's claws into that place as well.

He brought his attention back to the road and noticed he was approaching a large bridge that would take him into the town. Two small lumps in the middle of the tarmac piqued his curiosity as he drove. Gordon turned a little so the buggy wouldn't end up bouncing over them like a quad bike.

Suddenly, the lumps bounced from the ground, revealing themselves as metallic shapes that were almost - but not quite -the size of soccer balls, a worrying blue field of energy fizzling around them. The car rocketed towards them, and they latched on soundlessly. Gordon lost control of the car as they tugged him towards the barriers on the bridge. This wasn't good. At these speeds, the car was likely to-

Before Gordon could even consider jumping for safety, the buggy was crashing through the barrier and tumbling down to the shallow water down below.

Gordon had never liked going to the beach.

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(A/N: Hi all. Sorry for how long this took to update. I've been working on a _Doctor Who_ story at the same time, which has actually really helped get the creative juices flowing on this story again, so hoorah for that! I was also reluctant to continue because after starting with the next chapter, there are aspects of the storyline that have their origins in the 'Sidelines' story I'm writing with BlindAcquiescence.

Unfortunately, Blind seems to have disappeared off the internet for the moment, so I was left with either waiting for him to come back and _then _finishing that story (which comes to 13 chapters) before updated again, or just continuing on. I've written the bits in such a way that you don't _have _to read 'Sidelines' to understand them, but some of the build-up is lost without it. So yeah, I'm soldiering on with this, mostly because I don't want readers to think I've abandoned the story and then abandon it themselves.

Speaking of BlindAcquiescence, Gordon's little dream sequence at Cubbage's outpost is a nod to 'Shephard's Epic', which I hope he comes back and finishes, because it's simply awesome.

Of course, all reviews and (coherent) criticisms welcome!

_Next Chapter: The Lost Coast)_


	8. The Lost Coast

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Half-Life.**_

_**Welcome to City 17**_

_**Chapter Eight: The Lost Coast**_

Something tapped against his cheek. Whatever it was, it was cold and wet. Then again, his entire head felt cold and wet, so whatever was hitting him could be warm and dry for all he knew.

"Hey," a throaty voice grumbled as the tapping continued. "You there."

Gordon's eyes flickered open at the rather distinguished voice speaking down to him. Whoever it was, they were talking far too loudly considering they were crouched just next to him. The tapping continued, and he realised it was the man above him slapping his face, hoping to bring him out of unconsciousness.

Holding up a hand to stop the resuscitation attempts, Gordon waited a few moments to catch his breath before heaving himself into a sitting position. Seagulls cried out in the distance, the slowly lapping waves relaxing him somewhat, as ridiculous as it sounded. He checked himself over. Crowbar, revolver, Gravity Gun, no wounds on his head, everything seemed to be-

He stopped himself and looked around. He was sitting on a wooden pier, the water level pathetically low beneath him. A beached ship rested behind a host of towering rocks behind him. A cliffside loomed beside the pier, reaching up into the sky, peaking with a white building with construction scaffolding jutting out all around its surface. The pier on which he was sat led to a cast iron gate and a grassy path behind that. Even further beyond that, just before the horizon, Gordon could see the town he had been admiring from the road.

But no car.

The man beside him - an older man with a sailor's cap casting a slight shadow on his callow face - struggled with something, frowning as he scratched the side of his head.

"Wait a minute now, aren't you…?" He glanced up and down Gordon again, and then smiled. "Ah, you are. You're that scientist chap, Freidman. Fishman. Am I right?"

Gordon curled his lip. "Freeman."

"Ah, you must be here to take on the Combine," he enthused, nodding happily. Although it seemed more satisfaction at having remembered rather than pleasure from his arrival. His smile a faded a little and he shrugged. "Not sure what one man can do, but…" The smile all but disappeared as the man's entire body seemed to get heavier. "…no other reason to visit St Olga at a time like this."

St Olga. Okay.

With a grunt, he picked up a fishing spear and used it to pull himself to his feet. Gordon got up with him, putting his hands around the man without touching him in case he fell.

The Fisherman didn't seem to notice. "I'll take you to where they made their base." he sighed, and looked to how shaky his grip on the spear was. "Or as far as I can, at any rate."

He offered a little smile to Gordon before turning and walking towards the gate at the end of the pier.

"Um…"

"Yes, laddie?"

"My… car. You, um… I… had a car."

He smiled. "Yep, you certainly do. Weak lookin' thing, ain't it? It came down off that bridge there," he said, turning and pointing to a bridge on the other side of the bay that led away from St Olga and to some unseen roads, presumably the ones Gordon had been driving down earlier.

"There are some people in the town fixing it up for ya, don't worry. They," he laughed, "they didn't know where in blazes you were for a few minutes there. I was out fishin' when I saw you floating into the waters. You're lucky I was there. These infernal leeches will clean your bones in a trice, and I don't care what kind of fancy swimsuit you're wearin'."

He looked Gordon's HEV suit up and down, although it seemed less disapproving than it did confused, as though he didn't understand why he would wear such a thing.

Gordon looked out across the water, suddenly a little disconcerted at how dark it got in the middle. "Leeches?"

The Fisherman nodded. "Mm-hm. Vicious. Makes me miss piranhas!"

With a guffaw that indicated the conversation was over, the Fisherman turned and started leading him back to the gate. Confused but okay with leaving the topic alone, Gordon had to slow his pace considerably to stay behind the limping old man.

"Combine showed up yesterday," he began over his shoulder, still walking. "By this mornin' they were firin' off empty shells. Looks like they're plannin' to wipe out the town, so they can have the whole place for a base."

They reached the gate, and the Fisherman rest the spear against a crate. "Here, now, just let me unlock this gate for ya," he muttered absentmindedly, fumbling around in his pockets for the key.

He stopped for a moment to nod up the cliffside and to the building at the top. "That's where they are, up there. Church of St Olga." He looked to Gordon and winked. "You take out that gun and the people of St Olga will give you such a welcome as you've ever known!"

Gordon wasn't sure what to think about that. Rewards never really entered his head during these things.

"Ah!" the Fisherman announced, "here we are."

He brought out the rusty key and slipped it into the gate. After a few moments of muttered cursing and lock-jiggling, he managed to swing the gate open with a piercing creak.

"If you make it back safely, I'll be here, waitin' for ya." As though to prove the point, he stumbled past Gordon and to a small hut beside the gateway. He planted himself firmly on a wooden storage crate. "Get along now, laddie. Destroy that gun, and no dawdlin'."

Gordon considered protesting, that he had other places to be, that he was on a mission. But instead, he sighed. His car was in the shop anyway. He might as well help out while he was here. He nodded and headed through the gate.

"Oh, wait!"

The scientist turned, questioning gaze on the Fisherman.

"My memory," he grumbled, reaching around behind the crate. "Not what it used to be! Right, here you go."

Swinging back around, he pointed a shotgun at Gordon, which scared the living daylights out of him. The Fisherman just stared at him with small, beady eyes.

"Well, go on laddie. Take it. Lord knows I haven't got much use for it."

"Oh." Gordon cleared his throat a little. "I, uh… okay. Thank you." He reached out and gently took the weapon from him. He wondered how much ammunition was inside. Blinking, he checked the revolver. The bullets he had loaded earlier were still there.

"Off you go, son."

"Hm? Oh, right. Yeah. I'll just-" he pointed to St Olga's church at the top of the cliff. "Bye."

With that inspirational and witty speech out of the way, Gordon headed up the cliffside. Luckily, the constant sunlight had dried out the grass on the rather narrow and slanted path. He really didn't want to think about trying to circumnavigate this thing in the rain or snow.

A thunderous bang sounded from above him, and, looking up, Gordon saw a missile launch from somewhere inside the church. White smoke trail billowing behind it, it hurled itself into the middle of the town, crashing through the roof of a faraway building. They didn't explode.

Gordon's blood ran cold. Ravenholm. They weren't firing explosives. They were firing headcrabs. He moved with more purpose in his stride.

As he emerged from the path at the foot of some stone stairs on the right, the crackle of a Combine radio made him duck down. Two soldiers patrolled up the steps, oblivious to his presence. Creeping up behind the soldier closest to him, Gordon fired the shotgun at his head. The blood spattered out onto the steps and his comrade's legs, who whirled around and into a second blast. It knocked him off the steps and down the rocky cliffside below.

Frantic radio chatter echoed down from on high. After pumping the shotgun and sending the shell tumbling over his shoulder, Gordon walked up the steps and to more stairs that went up to his right. A wooden bridge was hastily pieced together at the top of the steps, leading over to another grassy path.

As he reached the bridge, he heard something beeping ominously behind him. Looking back, he saw a grenade gently. Gordon started running across the platform as two more soldiers emerged from around the corner of the pathway he was aiming for.

Leaping as the explosion struck his back, Gordon blasted one with the shotgun just before he slammed into the wall, his glasses knocked ajar. After straightening them out, he charged around the corner, ducking a blow to the head and responding by slamming the butt of his gun into the soldier's mask. The soldier struggled to keep his balance for a moment before Gordon gave him a solid kick to the belly to help him on his way.

Cricking his neck, Gordon paused as he thought he heard someone shouting his name. A woman, by the sound of it. Alyx? He blinked and shook the thought away. She was getting a train direct to Nova Prospekt. It was probably just his imagination. He _had _been exposed to the HEV suit for a long time. Who knew what prolonged exposure could do to a person?

He scrambled up the path as he heard something from above. Looking up, he saw the sun-cast shadows of two figures abseiling down the side of the cliffside. He whirled around and unloaded several rounds at them. One blast snapped his tether and fell like a rag doll to the rocks below, the spray catching the other soldier in the arm.

The soldier aimed a rifle at Gordon that he hadn't seen before. The muzzle flashed a brilliant blue as it fired, and Gordon dodged to the side to avoid the high powered bullets. It sounded like a nail gun being fired. Yanking out the revolver, Gordon blasted a hole through the soldier's helmet, sending him tumbling down with his comrade, brand new rifle and all.

St Olga's fired off two more missiles. A steep pathway around the corner revealed two more soldiers, both of which Gordon dispatched with a shotgun blast and, after discovering the shotgun was out, a crowbar to the legs. However, the second soldier carried a shotgun, and Gordon snatched it away from him as he fell. He clutched the replacement weapon possessively as he reached the top of the path, revealing the outskirts of the church.

Going through an old stone archway, Gordon couldn't help but think about how idyllic the place would be if it weren't for the Combine. It was a place he could picture going on holiday. Making his way through the dilapidated ruins, Gordon ended up going through two heavy wooden doors and into in a large courtyard. Picturesque terraced houses ran from just beside him all the way to a wall on the opposite side of the courtyard, ivy covered balconies and archways giving the place a sense of history that hadn't really struck Gordon anywhere else.

A well was planted in the centre of the courtyard, although Gordon doubted it was used for water too much anymore. Some steps at the far end of the courtyard led up to some closed gates, and, casting his gaze further to the right, Gordon found himself looking up at St Olga's church. Another wince-inducing bang shook the courtyard, and Gordon made his way to a secluded corridor on the level above him.

Walking through, Gordon was treated to a view of St Olga Bay below from a small stone balcony. He could picture the local priest standing exactly where he was now, enjoying the sun and peace of the waves and the gulls.

Another bang brought his attention back to the church, and he walked through the large wooden doors. Tinted sunlight shone through the stain glass windows, reds and greens and yellows splayed across the broken and dislodged tiles on the floor. Pillars on either side of the main area of the church gave Gordon respite from the sunlight, but not much. Some sunlight crept in through the broken roof high above Gordon, as well as the occasional flecks of dust, highlighted by the sunbeams blasting through.

Gordon walked to the altar, and there, to his right, was the missile launcher. Looking back across the church, he saw the lights shining against the floor and the walls. From where he was standing at the altar, people had become man and wife, christened their children…

He walked around to a metal table behind him, running his gloved fingers over the carefully woven tablecloth that looked as though it were no older than the gun in his hand.

The tears had welled in his eyes before he really knew they were there. It was the explosive shuddering of the missile launcher beside him that brought him back to reality and alerted him to the puddles of water in his eyes that threatened to spill down onto his cheeks.

"Damn it…" he muttered, blinking it away. Time for crying like a baby later.

The launcher didn't really make much sense to him, so there wasn't much chance of him simply finding an off switch. A metallic block within the machine rose up silently, leaving a small gap in the shaft beneath it. After a pause, it slammed down. Another missile launched up through the roof of the church, heading for the town. He nodded to himself, and started looking around. There wasn't much he could see that would be thin enough to-

Ah.

A tall golden staff, one of two it seemed, with an attractive swirling pattern running all the way up from the base to the tip. Gordon assumed it was a candleholder or something. In any case, it looked sturdy enough to stop that thing from slamming down again.

Only problem was, it was kind of heavy.

The Gravity Gun got in the way all the time as he was trying to lift it, which didn't help.

Gordon closed his eyes and shook his head. How could a scientist with a PhD be _this _stupid _this _much? It boggled the mind.

Using the Gravity Gun, he brought the golden staff up and inserted it into the gap beneath the metal block. As predicted, it tried to slam down. Upon encountering resistance, it gave up surprisingly quickly. A light behind the machine flashed red, and an alarm klaxon sounded. With a hiss, three tubular compartments beside the main cannon opened up. From inside each, a single venomous headcrab clambered out, as though unsure of what the hell it was doing.

The crowbar had crushed them all before they could get a better bearing on the situation. Combine radio chatter perked Gordon's ears, as did the distant chopping of helicopter blades. Whether or not it was a gunship, Gordon couldn't tell. Two soldiers appeared in the doorway at the far end, and Gordon aimed the shotgun. However, the two merely reached inside and slammed the doors shut.

"…the hell?" he muttered, running to the doors. Locked. Or barricaded. Whatever, he wasn't getting out.

The radio chatter from the other side was mostly incomprehensible (as usual), but something did manage to sift through all the noise:

'Victor'.

What they were saying about it, Gordon couldn't tell. But the helicopter was well and truly above the church now, the occasional shadow darting in and out of Gordon's sight through the openings in the roof. Gaze firmly upwards, Gordon quickly made his way to the altar area of the church.

As he reached the archway that would take him through, something smashed down through the rafters. Something heavy and grey. It kicked up a cloud of dust and dented a crater into the tiled floor as it landed. Clutching the shotgun tighter, Gordon backed up slowly towards the altar.

A whining noise quickly precipitated a flash from the cloud that blinded Gordon. Something almost instantly thumped into his chest, throwing him off his feet, over the table and into the far wall. Gordon fell to the carpeted floor with a grunt. His hands were empty, the shotgun knocked from his hands by the first impact.

Blinking away the stars, Gordon saw a soldier quite unlike any he had seen before emerge from the cloud of dust. It was holding the same unknown rifle he had seen the abseiling soldiers wielding, clutched against grey body armour that completely covered his body. Black gloves matched the shade of his Gestapo-like boots, but it was the helmet that was the most disconcerting. A singular orange, glowing eye in the centre of the head. Some complicated gasmask-like muzzle beneath the eye was the only indication that it behaved like a normal human body.

That would be Victor, then.

The soldier brought up his rifle again, and Gordon brought the Gravity Gun around, pulling the metal table to him. The bullets from Victor's rifle left worryingly large dents in the table with every shot, some almost piercing through.

Gordon braced himself against the wall and fired the primary trigger, sending the table hurtling into Victor and knocking him back into the middle of the main church area. While Victor brought himself to his feet, Gordon hurled himself at the shotgun, scooping it up just as Victor opened fire. He dove behind a pillar and ran down the small 'corridor' they created, heading for the doors.

Several glowing blue bullets thudded through the air ahead of him, and Gordon skid to a halt, doubling back and pressing his back to the pillar. Bastard guessed where he was going. Smarter than the average Combine, then.

That same whining flash came again, and Gordon watched a white orb shoot into view beside him. It hit the wall opposite and rebounded towards him. Gordon ducked and watched as the orb ricocheted madly around the room, hitting the pillar behind him and smashing through before finally exploding near the roof, sending a shower of sparks down over Victor.

Taking advantage of the cloud of dust from the broken pillar and the sparks raining down, Gordon whirled around the corner with shotgun cocked. He fired directly at the soldier's body, each blast sending him stumbling back before Gordon pulled the trigger all the way and unloaded two shells into him at once. That final volley threw Victor off his feet and onto his back, lifeless.

The scientist fell to his knees. He couldn't breathe, and the helicopter swirling around overhead wasn't helping his stress levels. That orb had winded him and drained the HEV suit of yet more energy.

The muffled squawk of a Combine radio spurred him to his feet, and Gordon dropped the empty shotgun to the floor beside the inert Victor. The gun t dead soldier had been carrying had been ruined by Gordon's little barrage. Without sparing another glance back, Gordon hefted the Gravity Gun around in front of him, aiming it for the doors.

It took two blasts to knock the doors flipping wide open. He heard a grunt from behind the door, and slipped the revolver from its holster. Edging to the now open archway, he crept to the door.

One soldier on the left was taken out with a single shot from the revolver between the eyes. He whirled around the open door behind him and came face to face with another soldier. Gordon shot him through the neck as the soldier hit him with a few bullets to the stomach.

The HEV suit bleeped. Gordon ignored it and moved on, kicking the gun away from the soldier's dying hands. He went to the archway that gave him a view of the courtyard. The wooden doors that had been his entrance into the courtyard were shut, presumably locked. He had taken one step out from the archway when gunfire rang out from the balcony opposite Gordon and from the ground on his right, bullets riddling the dusty ground and the concrete platform on which he stood. Back-pedalling over the body of the soldier behind him, he took a few moments to catch his breath before his gaze travelled down to the grenades hooked to the dead man's belt.

He yanked one off and pulled the pin, running without hesitation into the courtyard. Leaping forward, he tossed the grenade neatly onto the balcony before landing behind the well, putting it between him and the other soldier. Gordon vaulted to his feet as the grenade exploded, sending dust and wood splintering out into the air. The soldier's vision clouded, Gordon fired two shots, one catching the soldier in the leg and another in the side of the head.

The dust cloud was irritating his throat and eyes, so Gordon clambered up onto the concrete walkway running alongside the church and started moving for the cast iron gates at the far end. He figured he could probably use the Gravity Gun to get out that way. And there was still that helicopter to deal with, the churning of the blades giving Gordon somewhat of a headache. He hoped the pilot didn't have the bright idea of coming above the courtyard, because there wasn't much room here for him to take cover.

Then the church window above him exploded outwards, showering him in multi coloured glass. Victor landed with a dull thud in front of him, his visible scars apparently having no effect on his ability to leap long distances.

Gordon whipped up the revolver and pulled the trigger just as Victor clasped a vice-like hand onto the gun. It went off in Victor's face, slicing diagonally upwards through the grey helmet and leaving an open scar that revealed a mess of green and black wires tainted with dark, thick blood.

Victor didn't seem to notice. Latching another hand onto Gordon's wrist, he tossed him across the courtyard and through the wooden support frame above the well, including the quaint little roof that had been built on top. Dust, splinters and chunks of tile merged with the mist from the earlier grenade explosion.

Although, to be honest, Gordon couldn't really tell. Because his glasses had fallen off. He swiped a blind hand out into the blurriness in a wide arch. After sifting through broken wood and tiles, he came across the shape he wanted. Gordon slipped them on and blinked a few times to adjust again.

Victor was already striding around the well to come and get him.

This guy had made him lose his glasses.

_No-one _made him lose his glasses.

Gordon pulled out the crowbar and struck a blow at the soldier's head. His head jolted to the side, but came back almost instantly as if nothing had happened. A black fist soared through the air, and Gordon ducked around behind the soldier, administering a baseball swing to the back of his head.

It had the same effect as the first blow, except Victor turned around far more slowly this time, as though _that _particular attack had pissed him off more than the others. Gordon managed to avoid a few more lightning fast swipes at his head, hopping away until he had his back to the stairs leading up to the iron gates. He countered another missed blow with a downward swing at the head.

This time, however, Victor snatched the weapon before it even made contact. In a somewhat futile gesture, Gordon tugged at it a few times to try and jostle it free of his grip. Victor responded with a jab to the chest, sending Gordon up into the air and to the metal gates. He gasped for breath as Victor strode forward, never breaking into a run as he stormed over to him.

The soldier whirled the crowbar in his hand until it was the right way around and brought it back for a strike. Getting to his feet, Gordon paused when he heard a strange beeping noise coming from behind him.

And it was getting faster.

Having seen enough action movies with Barney to know what came next, Gordon ducked the downward slice of the crowbar and dove out of the way of the gates. He looked back and watched as Victor tilted his head over to stare at him before the gates blew. Gordon lost sight of Victor in the ensuing ball of smoke and dust, but he assumed he was thrown across the courtyard, if not killed. Getting to his feet, Gordon edged to the side of the entrance and waited.

Sure enough, two Combine soldiers emerged. Latching onto one from behind, he managed to grab his MP5 and lay waste to his comrade before the soldier administered an elbow to Gordon's stomach, sending him stumbling back. The soldier brought his gun around, and Gordon grabbed on, aiming it up towards the ceiling. Gunfire ran out above his head, bullets shooting off into the high ceiling of the archway above.

Out of the corner of his eye, Gordon could see Victor emerging from the smoke sans crowbar, marching for him as though nothing had happened. He was still struggling with the soldier when Victor arrived, killing the soldier with vicious backhand that twisted his head around. Gordon didn't even have time to register his confusion as the same fist came through the air, aiming for his head.

He ducked in time to feel the gloved hand brush against his hair, and he went for an archway on his left. It brought him out onto the scaffolding that he had spied from down below. Wooden planks had been placed rather precariously on the thin metal girders beneath him, and he could feel the wind jostling the planks this way and that.

And then the helicopter came. Looking over his shoulder, Gordon saw Victor hopping down into the construction area.

_Oh, good. The gang's all here._

A green crate in the corner drew his attention, and Gordon went to it as fast as the death trap of a walkway beneath him would allow. It was a rocket launcher. Slamming it open, he ignored how his instincts were screaming at him for putting his back to Victor and whipped out the launcher and a rocket. An ominous shadow appeared over him, and Gordon swung around, using the launcher as a club to Victor's midsection.

But Victor managed to clamp a hand over _that _weapon as well. Without much effort on his part, Victor yanked him up and over him, slamming Gordon down and crashing through the floorboards. Tumbling down to the water below, he threw out an arm, managing to hook it through one of the metal scaffolding girders on the level beneath. That was probably his last 'get out of jail free' card. If he got thrown around again, he would be dead.

The arm he had used to latch onto the girder also had a rocket grasped in its hand, and Gordon managed to throw his leg up and struggle into a standing position as the helicopter came down to see where the hell he had gone. He heard it charge up the mounted machinegun on its belly, Victor's footsteps on the planks above not going unnoticed either. Gordon loaded the rocket and aimed for the helicopter's rotor.

Victor landed, and Gordon fired. The dull thud of the rocket launching was cut off by the crisp bang that came from the airborne vehicle as Victor leapt from his girder at Gordon. He slapped the launcher away and down below, ignoring the explosions that were littering the helicopter as it still struggled in vain to stay aloft. An iron grip latched around Gordon's neck and slammed him into the support strut behind him. Gordon saw stars, wrapping his hand around Victor's wrist as though that would make some sort of difference.

So. This was his death. Not a bad one, as soldiers and heroes go. At least he saved the small town of St Olga. He was sure Alyx could save Eli by herself. She seemed capable.

It sure would have been nice to get to know her better, though. And Barney _still _hadn't bought him that beer, damn it. But when those were the only two things left unfulfilled in his life, he guessed he couldn't complain.

The helicopter exploded as Victor brought back his fist for the killing blow. Something came whipping past Gordon's head and dove straight into Victor, pulling him away from Gordon and all the way to the cliffside behind him. Gordon gasped for breath and blinked away the spots, clutching a nursing hand around his throat to ease the pain in his subconscious if nothing else.

It was a helicopter blade. Or part of it, at least. The explosion must have sent it flying and… well, there it was.

Victor was motionless against the wall, only kept upright by the blade that now protruded from his belly, that same dark blood trickling down his grey armour and dripping down into the chasm below.

Breathing harder and sweating more than he had in some time, Gordon took a few moments to rest against a support strut behind him, staring at the dead body stuck to the wall opposite him. He had no desire to tempt fate by climbing past Victor and back into the courtyard to retrieve his crowbar. Hopefully he could come and fetch it later on.

After wiping the grimy sweat from his brow, Gordon looked around for a way down. After a little dynamic crawling through the underbelly of the scaffolding, he found a cargo lift, although it looked a little ratty. It just made him smile. What else was new? Everything he had been given except the HEV suit was ratty. And even the HEV suit was running out of power at an insulting rate.

He clambered down into the elevator, the latticework metal rattling beneath his boots. It was then that Gordon realised there wasn't a release lever or handle. So how the hell was it supposed to work?

With a jolt and a metallic clang, the elevator started moving. Confused, Gordon looked down and found his Fisherman friend standing at a rather large lever beside his little shed. How had he not noticed that before?

It took only a few seconds for him to reach ground level, and Gordon climbed out of the elevator, nodding gratefully to the Fisherman.

"Thank you."

The Fisherman grinned and slapped him on the arm. "You did it lad. Come on with me to St Olga. We'll celebrate this victory with a feast!"

His stomach grumbled. A feast sounded good.

"I, uh… hope you like leeches."

That didn't.

"Uh… no. Thank you," he said quickly, adjusting his glasses. Then, by way of clarification, he added, "I don't like seafood."

The Fisherman didn't really seemed surprised by this reaction, a resigned shrug his only response. "I guess you got other places to be. I've been told your car's ready for you, so I'll take you over to St Olga and you can get on your way."

Gordon nodded. "Thank you. I, uh…" he pointed up to the church. "I left my crowbar up there, could I just go up and-"

"Certainly, laddie! I'll need some time to find another oar, anyway."

He nodded and turned to head back up the cliffside path. Then he stopped and turned around, frowning. "Oar?"

"Yes, laddie." Another grin broke out, but Gordon didn't really feel like sharing this one. "We're gettin' to St Olga by rowboat!"

A sigh escaped the scientist's lips. Airboats aside, Gordon wasn't really a big fan of boats and the like.

He wondered if he should bring it up now or later that he got seasick _very _easily.

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(A/N: Hey everybody, sorry this took so long, I've been very busy with other fics and real life issues. But I should be a little more regular with updates from now on. I just want to assure you that I am in no way abandoning this fic. Updates are coming, and I fully intend to finish this story. Thanks for reading, and please review!

_Next Chapter: Sandtraps_)


	9. Sandtraps

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Half-Life.**_

_**Welcome to City 17**_

_**Chapter Nine: Sandtraps**_

The car jolted a little as it passed over yet another abandoned tyre on the road. Grimacing at the way his glasses dropped down his nose, Gordon adjusted his course accordingly.

His flashlight was not helping at all. The range was so limited. All it helped him do was identify what he was he was about to run over, pretty much _as _he ran over it. God, he hated driving in the dark. He supposed that most people did, but at least _they _had headlamps that worked. These had been shattered, although he didn't know whether that was from him or from some crash long before he grabbed the wheel.

Scratching his earlier thought, Gordon decided he hated driving in the dark with _this _car. Buggy. Car. Whatever the hell it was, it was useless. That much he had ascertained from the fact that the bag of supplies he had been given by the people of St Olga's had fallen off and tumbled down a very steep cliff before tearing open on the rocks below and exposing the contents to the shallow sea. Which left him with a crowbar, a Gravity Gun, and a box full of machinegun ammunition that he couldn't use because some bright spark at St Olga's had taken the gun itself out of the ammo crate and stuffed it into said bag.

As if being attacked by random soldiers from years ago wasn't bad enough…

Gordon was snapped out of his reverie when someone stepped out from behind a crashed pickup truck. The body thumped against the front of the buggy and promptly tumbled overhead, finally crashing down to the ground behind him. He slammed his boot down on the brakes, leaning forward as the wheels did their best.

He was out of the buggy and sprinting to the body before the vehicle had even stopped. Coming to a skidding stop beside the body, he knelt down and turned it over. With a yelp that was far more girly than he was comfortable with, Gordon frantically backed up before finally managing to get to his feet. Breathing heavily, he cautiously made his way towards the body once more.

Upon confirming the diagnosis with his flashlight, Gordon sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Thank God. Just a zombie. Well, thank God for the fact he hadn't killed some terrified civilian or rebel. No thank you God for the fact that zombies were in this pitch black tunnel in the first place. Of all the places they could hang out, it had to be the stereotypical dark, dank tunnel with only flickering maintenance lights for company.

Then again, he supposed finding zombies in fields of daisies and lilies would be a _bit _odd.

Shoulders slouching after the sudden burst of adrenaline, Gordon made his way back to the car and set off again. He couldn't afford to be wasting time now; it had taken him far too long just to get the old man at St Olga's to take him to his car, let alone the amount of time it took to drive to the tunnel.

So, if he just kept on going down the tunnel, everything should be-

He once more hit the brakes and stopped. A distinct groan escaped his throat as he saw the multi-car pile-up in front of him.

"Fine," he muttered, reaching around and pulling up the Gravity Gun.

It was a long yet satisfying process. There was something that appealed to the scientist in him about putting things in their place, organising them. Of course, there was a slight difference between blasting cars around a tunnel and accounting for phase variances in the thermostatic field, but still… it felt the same. Sort of.

And, yes. It was cool to punch cars around. But it was mostly the organising thing.

As he blasted the last car away, clearing a straight (if awkward) path for his buggy, Gordon heard the distinct howling of old zombie friends. As the snarled groans became louder, he ran and clambered into the buggy through the front 'window', bouncing down into the chair as he turned on the ignition. The buggy roared to life, and he watched as zombies filled up the road.

Lacing his arm through the wheel, he reached for the mounted Tau Cannon with the other. He gave the buggy a burst of speed, and he launched forward. The buggy thumped violently against the dozen or so bodies waiting for him, some of the impacts helped by a few blasts from the Tau Cannon. Some of the skinless little bastards clung on longer than the others, but a few sharp turns trampled them underfoot.

Sunlight bore down on him as he turned another corner, and he allowed himself a long exhalation. Within a few seconds, the buggy was roaring out into the open air, the gentle brushing of the tide barely reaching his ears over the rumbling of the engine. The road curved off to the left around the cliffside, giving him a view of a long, grassy field on his right. As the turning gradually straightened out, a lone house that looked as though it would die at any moment came into view, sitting in the middle of the field.

Eyebrow cocked and his need for supplies overriding his caution, Gordon turned the buggy off the road and onto the grassy, sandy ground, the bouncing from the rough terrain threatening to jostle his glasses free. A high white fence ran around the house like a tall, thin moat. Gordon slowed a little as he approached it, not wanting to smash the already fragile looking buggy through anything else.

A noise from behind the fence tweaked his ears. He left the engine on and waited for a few moments.

A Combine radio.

Before he could even shift the buggy into reverse, a Combine van came crashing through the fence, thundering down on him like a juggernaut. Slamming the gear stick into reverse, Gordon took off, swerving this way and that to avoid the blasts coming from the mounted weapon atop the van. They looked like the same high powered blasts that came from the rifle Victor had been carrying.

As he reached the road, Gordon yanked the wheel around, sending the buggy careening around in a wide arc. Frantically shoving the stick forward, Gordon roared away, some of the high powered bullets exploding loudly against the metal frame of the buggy. Trying to keep his eye both on the road and the vehicle behind him, Gordon swerved from side to side as the van tried to match him.

Another round blasted past his ear, and Gordon scowled. Okay, no more of that.

Reaching forward, he started charging the Tau Cannon and moved the car over so that it was parallel to the van, just further ahead. Then he hit the brakes. He jolted forward in his chair, his glasses reaching the very tip of his nose as he watched the van continue on past him. The van itself looked far too well armoured to be stopped by the Tau Cannon, even when it was fully charged, but perhaps the gun was a little more vulnerable. The awkward position of the glasses on his nose forced Gordon to tilt his head backwards and look down at the van like a disapproving headmaster.

The Combine gun took aim, and Gordon fired.

Eureka, as Dr Kleiner would say.

With a neat, small explosion, the gun flipped back off the van, landing in a smoking heap on the road behind it. Gordon sat back down in the car, shoved the glasses back up his nose and gunned it, leaving the van literally in his dust.

The fact that his car was smaller and lighter held no bearing on how fast the van caught up to him, however, and sooner than he was comfortable with it was once more right behind him, ramming the back of buggy impatiently.

The road went up in front of him before a sudden left turn. The cliffside beyond the barriers was steep, leading down into the violently crashing waves below.

Increasing his speed, Gordon made a beeline for the corner, the Combine van easily matching him and slamming into him as he went. He looked over his shoulder, and two more soldiers hopped down onto the framework of the buggy, machineguns at the ready. It seemed they weren't in the mood to _ask_ him to stop.

He reached the corner and forcefully turned the car as he yanked up the handbrake, sending the car tumbling over, crushing the two unwanted passengers and leaving them to be similarly squashed beneath the closely following van. The buggy stopped upside-down beside the barrier, giving Gordon only a half-second to curl himself up protectively before the van came crashing down on him, moving too fast and too close to him to stop itself. Gordon clenched his jaw and grunted in pain as he was forced into a painful foetal position.

And then, suddenly, the pressure was gone. Opening his dazed eyes, Gordon gradually managed to extricate himself from the warped remains of the car and drag himself out into the road. A loud crash echoed from down below, and Gordon couldn't help but smile as he lay on the tarmac, staring up into the misty sky.

After a few moments of smiling like an idiot, Gordon hauled himself to his feet. Time for all that 'thank God I survived' crap later. Right now he had to get the car up and… well, sort of running. Gordon doubted the car was good for much of anything anymore.

After pulling it the right way up (although, considering just how warped and bent out of shape it was, he wasn't too sure which _was _the right way up), Gordon managed to squeeze himself inside before starting the engine with eyes clenched shut. With a painful wheeze, the engine sprang to life, and Gordon was on his way.

Another tunnel waited for him, this one thankfully bereft of zombies. Considering the Tau Cannon was dangling precariously from a clutch of multi-coloured wires, Gordon doubted it would be of much use to him against a lamb, let alone a zombie.

Another complicated looking checkpoint awaited him on the other side, although it looked long abandoned. No-one bothered him, so he let it be. After investigating a house with a murderous van inside, he had no desire to go tempting fate again only for a helicopter to burst out. He hated helicopters.

And, finally, after another long, dark tunnel, Gordon saw the lighthouse. Trundling down the now rather sandy road, Gordon noticed someone waving him over.

"Hey, over here!"

He brought the car into the heart of the settlement, where two crimson sheds awaited him beside an enthusiastic rebel. Two long, flat bungalows on his right and ahead of him framed the settlement, a gradually inclining path between the two buildings leading up to the eponymous lighthouse.

"We're picking up radio chatter; they're looking for your-" his eyes fell to the buggy, and as though sensing that its journey was over, the engine puttered out pathetically.

"…car. Wow. Uh… what… happened?"

Gordon pulled himself out of the warped frame and stretched. "A van."

"A… van?"

He turned and yanked the crowbar out from behind the seat. "A van."

A smile spread across the rebel's bearded face as he watched Gordon slip the crowbar into its sheath.

"Wow. That's _the _crowbar, isn't it?"

Most definitely _not _in the mood for hero worship at the moment, Gordon just let a brown eyebrow shoot up as he stared at the rebel.

His admirer's grin faded, if only slightly. "You'll have to get your car in the garage," he said, nodding to the open shed behind him.

Gordon nodded, and swung the Gravity Gun around. The rebel nodded to the weapon, confused.

"What's th-"

With a single blast, Gordon sent the buggy remains tumbling into the shed, leaving only the slightest edge poking out. Gordon walked over and pushed the rest in with his foot. The rebel, suitably shaken up by the sudden blast, reached up and closed the metal door.

"Ho…kay doc," he began, clearing his throat as he led Gordon towards the bungalow behind him, "you'll have to go on foot from here. There's a secret path along the cliffside, but no-one's going anywhere until we fight off this attack."

Gordon had barely processed the word 'attack' before a shotgun was being shoved into his hands by the grinning rebel.

"Having you here to fight alongside us is going to make a big difference for morale."

Only then did Gordon notice all the other rebels milling around the base, unabashed stares boring into him. Resigned, Gordon cocked the shotgun as the rebel's head whipped up, intense gaze on the sky behind the scientist.

"Oh, crap. Here come the dropships!"

For a moment, Gordon had no idea what he was talking about. Then the low humming came, and his rebel friend was jogging away at a fair clip, heading for the house on the far side of the compound.

Rather than follow suit, Gordon slipped around the back of the garage as the dropship roared overhead, kicking up dust as it came to a rest at the entrance to the compound. Poking his head around, he saw a metal hatch slam to the ground. At least half a dozen soldiers poured out. They spread out quickly, some going around the back of the garage sheds and the others to the house on the left.

Gunfire erupted, and Gordon started backing up to intercept the soldiers coming from around the shed.

As the dropship took off again, Gordon heard the distinct crackle of Combine radio chatter and crouched down, peeking around the shed.

A high powered, glowing bullet shattered through the wood, and Gordon barely turned his head away in time to avoid a face-full of splinters. A grenade bounced down to his feet, and Gordon launched himself over the low wall in front of him, the explosion pushing him further across the dusty road than he intended.

Rolling with it, he brought the shotgun around from his lying position, and blasted away at the first glowing blue eyes he saw. The first soldier went down with a loud grunt. Another grenade tapped to the ground in front of him, and Gordon dropped the shotgun, scooping up the Gravity Gun. He blasted it right back, the grenade exploding just as it reached his targets.

A Combine rifle flew through the air and landed on the road a few feet away from him. Kicking up dust as he went, Gordon scooped both it and his shotgun up, using the strap on the shotgun to hang it from his shoulder. This was the same rifle Victor had been using.

"Pulse rifle!" a female medic said, her small stature and voice completely wrong for this kind of situation. "Nice!"

Gordon inspected the blue-chrome rifle, the thin design and almost semi-circular barrel at the front reminding him of a Tommy gun. Although not quite. Tommy guns didn't have glowing red parts on the bullets when they were in the chamber, waiting to be fired.

"Another dropship, coming over the road!"

The gruff announcement caught Gordon's attention, and he followed the medic to her hiding place behind the barn as another dropship landed at the foot of the path leading up to the lighthouse.

"How's it going, Freeman?" she asked breathlessly, reloading her MP7.

Gordon regretted that he knew the names of these weapons now. He took a breath.

"Okay, I guess."

"With you here, it's gonna get a whole lot better."

He bit back the instinctive and uncertain 'Sure' that was about to escape his lips. It was already the end of the world, he didn't need to bring the girl's morale down any lower than it already was.

She moved her head around to check, and a small puff of red exploded from the woolly hat she wore. The girl collapsed on her back, dead, glazed eyes staring up at the sky.

Closing his eyes, he fought his trembling lip and proceeded around the sheds until he was peeking out to where the road met the bottom of the ridge leading up to the lighthouse.

He ran to the house opposite, going unnoticed by the Combine soldiers fighting the rebels in the other house. Gordon came up behind the soldiers as the dropship buzzed overhead. Lifting the pulse rifle, he held down the trigger and didn't stop, each thudding bullet blazing through soldier after soldier. Three were down before the others noticed there was someone they hadn't killed in the house behind them, and they took cover behind some rocky outcroppings accordingly.

But they were in a crossfire now. They couldn't take cover from Gordon without leaving themselves open to the other rebels.

And so they were soon dead, an eerie quiet settling around the compound.

The rebel that had welcomed him hurried over.

"Thanks," he said grimly, looking around the base. "You're as good as they say."

Gordon grunted and tossed the spent pulse rifle away. Bringing the shotgun up, he looked around Lighthouse Point.

"How many dead?"

"Uh," he gasped, breathing heavily. "Not sure. There were three in this house, and they were all taken out by that last dropship. One wounded in our house."

Gordon made his way around the house beside him, giving a better view of the lighthouse at the top of the hill. "Four."

"What?"

Slowly, he turned and looked the rebel in the eyes. "Four dead. A medic was shot over there."

He nodded. "Mary. She was new."

His chest heaved from the sudden stabbing pain there. "Sorry," he muttered, that being about all he could manage at the moment.

"Dropship heading for the Lighthouse!"

Both Gordon and the rebel looked at the source of the voice, then up to the humming that seemed to come from all around. They tucked themselves in beside the house, and this time, Gordon snuck a peek around the corner. He wouldn't waste another life just because he was too afraid to look. A bare old tree blocked the soldiers view of him as they poured out of the dropship. It didn't even bother to land, merely hovering beside the path that ran around the base of the Lighthouse.

Then, another familiar alien noise sounded through the air. A kind of groaning metal, all rage and fire.

"Gunship!" a female voice chirped up, and Gordon couldn't help but close his eyes at how he _really _should have predicted it.

"Head for the Lighthouse Freeman, there's rockets in there!" the rebel beside him announced.

Frustrated, Gordon turned to the rebel. He was tired of thinking of these people as nothing but casualties. "What's your name?"

Slightly off put, the rebel blinked. "What?"

"Your name."

"Uh… Kinsey. Tom Kinsey."

Gordon nodded. "Right. Thank you, Tom."

There. Gordon knew his name. Now it meant that he couldn't be shot randomly, because he was a person. It would _mean _something to someone if Tom Kinsey died from a stray bullet.

With that, Gordon snatched a grenade from the man's belt and launched himself out into the open air, turning his momentum into a mad rush for some hastily erected fencing. After almost charging headlong down the cliff behind it, Gordon took a moment to compose himself before tucking the shotgun under his arm.

He pulled the pin on the grenade and started running again.

The six soldiers were almost past him on their way to the town, but one was close enough for Gordon to stuff the active grenade down his vest. With a hefty shove, he pushed the soldier away and leapt to the ground, rolling as much as possible as he brought up the shotgun. The grenade exploded, sending bits of soldier everywhere, also setting off the grenades in _his _belt. The resulting explosion took out the two soldiers closest to him.

Shotgun at the ready, Gordon walked into the cloud of dust and smoke like a man possessed, blasting away at the glowing blue eyes he could see. Finally, the shotgun was spent and Gordon tossed it away, bringing out the crowbar to dole out punishment to anyone left.

But there was no-one.

Gordon let his tensed arm drop, and breathed out a sigh of relief.

The gunship groaned once more. Angry weapons fire exploded from behind him, kicking up dust in the ground as the trail of high powered projectiles moved towards him.

He started running up the hill, finally diving behind some rocks to avoid the brunt of the attack. It was demolished in seconds. Light machinegun fire went off in the distance, and Gordon peeked over the collapsed remains of the boulder. It was the rebels, taking pot-shots at the gunship in a bid to distract it. To their credit, it was working.

Sort of.

Gordon kicked off and started running around the lighthouse, looking for a door. He barely used the handle as he barged his way through and thundered up the stairs. The metal echoing of his boots on the spiralling staircase was almost non-existent compared to the intimidating roar of he gunship.

Windows exploded out towards him as the gunship fired randomly on the lighthouse, the rounds doing nothing to the thick wall of the building.

Eventually, Gordon found himself stumbling onto the top floor, gasping for breath as he fell onto the ammo crates there. Opening the metal green box, he heaved out the rocket launcher and grabbed a handful of orange missiles. He headed for the next, final staircase that would take him up and out into the open air.

The gunship seemed to spot him straight away, which didn't surprise Gordon in the least. The barest of resigned sighs on his lips, Gordon shoved the first rocket into the launcher and lined up the shot.

Ignoring how close the bullets were coming to his head, Gordon fired and watched the rocket spiral madly through the air, following the laser guide. As he tried to point it in the right direction, the gunship's bullets shattered the light behind him, sending a shower of exploding glass over the back of his head. An intense ringing kept him distracted long enough for the gunship to get a lock on the rocket tailing it and shoot it down in a brilliant, trailing flash.

Scowling, Gordon scrambled for the next rocket, keeping his head down as the gunship fired away on its latest pass, only stopping once it was on the other side of the lighthouse.

Rocket in place, Gordon stood up, aimed and fired. This time there was nothing the gunship could do except take it right on the nose. With a roar that made Gordon smile, the flying behemoth swerved around in the air unsurely, its backside eventually coming around to face him as it struggled to find its bearings. Gordon slammed in the next rocket and fired.

This one hit the propeller at the back of the beast, sending it even further off course, bobbing up and down in the air like an injured bird as it circled the lighthouse ominously. But it didn't fire, and Gordon quickly saw why; the gun had been destroyed. So what the hell was it doing?

Gordon's grip on the rocket launcher slackened considerably as he watched the behemoth turn and head straight for the middle of the lighthouse. Tossing the rocket launcher to the floor, Gordon ran to the other side of the walkway, latching onto the guardrail.

The gunship ploughed through the lighthouse, its momentum almost taking it through the entire building. The top half of the lighthouse tumbled backwards and teetered dangerously towards the cliff behind it. Gordon jumped from the guardrail and slid down the now slanted lighthouse, aiming for the now inert rear of the gunship. He prayed that the propeller wouldn't start up again before he hit it.

Behind him, the building began to crumble. He could hear metal tearing and concrete cracking as he fell. The gunship was loosened from the lighthouse as the building tore itself apart. Gordon landed hard on the back of the gunship, boots slipping on the smooth white surface as it bent wildly out of the control. His HEV suit squeaked and whined as it slid down the gunship before finally launching him off the tail end and towards the barely alive tree he had been using for cover earlier.

Except for one small detail.

He was going to overshoot the tree by a fair amount.

He brushed the very tips of the branches before hurtling to the hard, _hard _ground beside the houses. He kicked up a ridiculous amount of dust as he rolled violently along, finally coming to an abrupt halt against the low wall running around the sheds.

"Oh…" He scowled. "Ow."

The HEV suit pinged. Apparently, leaping off a collapsing lighthouse, rebounding off a gunship and slamming into the ground at high speed? Not a good idea.

He sighed.

_Well, you live and learn. Thank you for this lesson, HEV suit._

"Dr Freeman! Dr Freeman!"

His eyes flickered open, and he realised that his glasses had fallen off. Two blurry figures stood over him, peering down interestedly.

"Yes?" he mumbled, throwing out an unsure hand against the wall beside him before finally getting a grip and pulling himself up into a sitting position. That was all he was willing to attempt right now. Sitting and speaking. Seemed like a good starting point.

"I found these, Dr Freeman."

He felt something cold slip around his face, and realised they were his glasses. "Thank you," he said quietly, barely aware of anything at the moment. His HEV suit was getting pretty low. Joy.

"This way, Doctor Freeman. We'll take the cliff path before another gunship finds us."

His brain literally feeling loosened, he didn't really take in the Kinsey's words. Gordon's gaze slowly travelled up to the man. "I'm sorry?"

"The cliff path. I've gotta get you on the way to the Vortigaunt camp."

The scientist stared dumbly. "I'm sorry?"

"Are you all right, Dr Freeman? You seem a little confused."

The rebel beside Kinsey, a girl, muttered, "Maybe he hit his head."

A scowl knotted his features, simultaneously making his headache worse. Using the hand clamped down on the wall, he managed to haul himself to his feet.

"Not confused. Just…" He rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses. "Tired."

Looking to the rebels, he didn't see a single spark of understanding in any of them. They just nodded and seemed to be waiting, breathlessly, for him to do something else.

"Uh… Kinsey. Where's the cliff path?"

"Oh! Right, right."

The rebel led him excitedly to the lighthouse. Gordon followed, scooping up a fallen MP7 as he went. Kinsey scurried down the stairs of the lighthouse once they got inside. Blank wooden crates littered the ground floor, leaving only a blank patch of wall about the same width as a door. Gordon looked over at Kinsey expectantly.

The rebel gestured to the wall.

"Right along there, and… watch your step."

Tapping away on a keypad on a metal pillar beside him, Kinsey looked uncomfortable under Gordon's gaze, getting the code wrong a few times before flashing him a nervous smile and getting it right on the fourth go. Gordon would have felt guilty, but he was getting tired of this stuff. If they wanted to treat him like the messiah, great, good for them. But he wasn't going to be made uncomfortable in the few peaceful moments he got between slaughterhouses.

With a small smile and a nod, Gordon turned and stepped through the now open wall, which Gordon found hid a very thick metal door. Blue sky was all he could see in front of him, and only the barest of paths stopped him from tumbling to the crashing waves below. And the rocks, Gordon just couldn't _help _but notice the rocks.

The door closed behind him, and Gordon was once more alone. He wasn't sure if he preferred it this way or not.

On his right was nothing but a sheer drop. Left revealed the slightest of rocky shelves that would take him to a cave on the far side of the cliff-face. Gunfire crackled from up above, and the low hum of a dropship filled the air. Looking up, Gordon saw said ship flying overhead, something thin and wiry grasped between its claws.

His car.

The Combine had taken his car.

His. _Car._

Now, Gordon had never been one to care much about cars. They were just a quicker, louder, more pollution heavy method of getting yourself around. He had never understood the attachment he had seen other men develop with their automobiles. Barney sprang to mind, with his strange nicknames and sometimes too affectionate patting and stroking.

But now, seeing the vehicle that had been his saviour for the past day or so being carried away to have horrific, terrible things done to it…

Well, it just made him mad. You don't just… _take _a man's car. You just don't.

Oh, there would be hell to pay for this. There wasn't any more gunfire coming from up above, so Gordon assumed that either the dropship merely came for his car, or…

He closed his eyes and shook his head. Loosening up his shoulders, Gordon shimmied his way across the cliff-path and into the sandy tunnel, sunlight from the other side leading the way easily. Gordon enjoyed the brief respite from the blazing light. While it wasn't _that _hot, the cloudless sky was making the constant squinting a bit of an annoyance.

Making his way out of the cave, Gordon crossed a dry, grassy plain, dusty boots crunching against the weeds and grass. Something caught his eye in the distance, and he picked up the pace, breaking into a light jog as he reached some distinctly rocky ground. A pit of sand sat before him, framed by tall rock faces stretching around from Gordon's right and behind the two people sat on a rocky platform in the middle.

"Hold still, Lazlo… someone's coming."

One was lying on the sand. The other, crouched on the large disc of a rock beside him, gestured wildly to Gordon with his MP7.

"You there, stop where you are! Stay on the rocks! Don't step on the sand, it makes the Antlions crazy!"

Gordon took an instinctive step back from the edge, eyeing the sand as he thumbed the safety off on the MP7.

"Lazlo, don't move." Lazlo, lying on his back, clearly did not hear the instruction, and groaned as he tried to sit up.

A rumble shook the ground ever so slightly, and Gordon waved the MP7 at all the sand he could see.

"No- help!"

The sand exploded upwards, giant blurs of green erupting up and surrounding Lazlo and his friend. Gordon saw a thin claw stab through Lazlo's neck.

"Lazlo!"

The intensity of the friend's cry made Gordon ache a little, but he first concentrated on clearing the Antlions. Between them, Gordon and Lazlo's companion managed to get rid of the monsters without much trouble, although the scientist managed to deplete his weapon. So the crowbar and Gravity Gun were all he had now. Nothing like fair play.

A pathway of rocks led around the sandpit, some leading off towards a thin 'alleyway' on the left. Gordon made a note of it before hopping along the rocks like stepping stones and jumping to the side of Lazlo's friend.

Gordon tried not to think of the bloody mess laying before him as a person. Unsurprisingly, it didn't help, so he closed his eyes and looked away.

"Dear God… Poor Lazlo. The finest mind of his generation… to come to such an end…"

About to offer his sympathies, Gordon realised the man was barely listening to him.

"We were heading to the Vortigaunt camp. We were hoping to get some bug bait so these damn things would leave us alone. But without Lazlo… what's the point?"

Gordon considered asking about 'bug bait', but immediately dismissed it as inappropriate. His scientist way of looking at everything as a problem to be solved often misled him when it came to people and emotions and grief. But if the past few days had given him anything, it was a crash course in dealing with people experiencing intense emotional states.

"I know you tried to help," Lazlo's friend muttered, bringing Gordon back to Earth. "I'll stay with him awhile. There's… something I have to do. I hope you have better luck than we had. Just… remember to stay off the sand. The Antlions are edgy right now."

His shoulders suddenly looking heavy, the man knelt by Lazlo's remains. Gordon decided it would be best not to put a hand on his shoulder, which was his initial idea.

"Thank you," he murmured, before heading for the entrance to the passageway.

Waves crashed against the shore, and, somewhere in the distance, birds squawked. Whether they were seagulls or not, Gordon couldn't tell. He didn't even know if seagulls were still alive. He hoped so, even though he had no particular affinity towards them. He just wanted something normal and mundane to have survived.

The first few jumps weren't so difficult in that the rocks weren't that far away from each other. It was when the gap extended more than five feet that he was stuck. Luckily (or randomly, he was never sure about these things), bits and pieces of planking, loose rocks and trees lay about the sandy ground. For anyone else, they would have been impossible to reach and utilise properly.

But for someone with a Zero Point Energy Field Manipulator…

Gordon levelled the Gravity Gun at a particularly long plank of wood, faded white paint revealing just how thin it was. He let it rest between the flat rocky ground he stood on and the island that he wished to get to. Walking the tightrope was made somewhat more difficult by the Gravity Gun lumbering around him, and his feet slipped onto the sand more than once. With each miniscule touch, the ground thundered and shook, as though the sand itself was quivering with fear at what was digging its way up.

It went on like that for awhile, Gordon scrabbling for whatever he could find with the Gravity Gun to help him bridge each sandy gap. Some rebel-made difficulties got in his way (like some complicated see-saw mechanism which didn't seem to serve any purpose except to annoy him) but before long he was inching his way past some disused old houses. He imagined that when the sea had been at its normal level, the houses here would have been quite idyllic, at just the right height that the water would have merely tickled the edges of the ground around them.

It struck Gordon that no-one on the entire planet would go on a beach vacation ever again. The thought distracted him enough that he almost tried to walk through the door of the last house, regardless of the sandy ground that had risen up and overwhelmed it. Backing up a little, Gordon edged his way around the house, his feet secure on the rocky ground that surrounded it.

Around the back, he bumped gently into a generator on wheels. Following the cables, he saw them lead to a Thumper in the middle of an incredibly bare stretch of beach. On the other side, he could just make out a low cliffside, outcroppings leading up and over it and, presumably (hopefully) to the Vortigaunt camp the rebels and Lazlo's friend had been talking about.

He pressed an experimental thumb against the only red button on the generator. It thrummed comfortingly, and Gordon watched as the Thumper came to life, metal pile driver slamming into the ground. The cloud of sand and dust made Gordon smile for some reason, and he almost skipped his way into the field of sand. With a thunderous rumble, the sand around him exploded, Antlions bursting from everywhere.

Gordon's happy skip turned into a full sprint. Breathlessly looking back, he saw the Antlions still rapidly approaching. He pointed the Gravity Gun at them, although he wasn't sure what good it would do. The Thumper slammed down, and although the thud was rather muffled to Gordon's ears, it obviously did something rather unpleasant to the Antlions, all of whom backed off quickly.

Smiling, Gordon cocked a 'Do you see what you get when you mess me?' eyebrow before turning and heading for the cliffside. It seemed like it was within the radius of the Thumper, so he figured the Antlions wouldn't bother him. Still, caution was probably the best way forward, so he ran to the outcroppings, practically scrambling his way up before stumbling over the top and down onto the other side.

He was in what was once probably a lake, barrels and crates littered all around. Tall rock spires reached jaggedly up for the sky. Gordon clambered down as best he could, the Gravity Gun knocking around awkwardly as he jumped to the sand below.

No rumblings. That was good.

"Still…" he murmured, bringing the Gravity Gun up in front of him. Slowly, he made his way forward, heading deeper into the shallow canyon that had been carved out by the now absent water.

He made his way around the first tall rock outcropping, when something made a distinct 'puff' noise behind him. Turning, Gordon pointed the Gravity Gun at the Antlion he expected to see.

The _huge _thing that clambered out was _not_ an Antlion. It looked more like a scaly green and brown horse, except with no eyes and dozens of little nerve endings sticking out all along the spine. Somehow, with no face to speak of, it still managed to look angry at Gordon.

Or maybe that was the way it swung its head down and knocked him aside like a football. That might have been it.

Gordon flew through the air, thankfully coming to a soft touchdown on the sand much further down the 'river'. More sand exploded up around him, and regular sized Antlions clambered out. Gravity Gun at the ready, Gordon blasted away at them, the bolts of energy only succeeding in knocking them onto their backs. They seemed to struggle with that change of events, however, legs kicking and scrabbling around in the air as they attempted to right themselves.

Not one to waste an opportunity when the mother of all Antlions was bearing down on him, Gordon practically tripped over himself turning and running further into the canyon. Except it ended not far in front of him, with the river opening up into a circular area that yielded no obvious way out.

Except, that is, for the bunker that seemed to have been built into the cliffside. _That _seemed like a way out. A thick metal white door on the ground level seemed to be the best way forward, but the mounted machinegun on the level above something deterred him.

It was poking out of the barest of slits in a metal covering, and seemed to be wiggling in his direction, no doubt trying to ascertain whether he was friend or foe. Something big, roaring and angry slammed into Gordon again, tossing him through the air until he slammed into a rocky pillar shooting up out of the ground. His HEV suit warned of an impact, to which Gordon's response was a muttered 'No shit'.

The Antlion queen (at least, Gordon assumed it was a queen, that would make sense for big insects, right?) charged him again, and Gordon rolled out of the way, letting the beast's head collide with the rock formation. It did more than that, however, toppling the tower until it crashed to the ground and kicked up another cloud of sand.

As if it was needed. More Antlions came out of the ground around him, slashing and biting at his steadily draining suit. Gordon blasted some away and managed to hop over the mob of insects that surrounded him. The queen swatted him in the back again, this time sending the glasses flying from his face as he himself bounced into the air, tumbling down onto a collection of hard and jagged rocks.

The sound from the HEV suit was cutting in and out, the stats before his eyes flickering. Machinegun fire sounded, and Gordon hoped to God they were firing at the monster. Then he heard something else. A kind of chanting that seemed more like a low hum than anything else. Bringing his blurred vision forward, Gordon managed to eschew himself into a sitting position on the rocks, rolling off as he watched the smudgy battle unfold.

Whatever the blur was, it was human-shaped. And brown. Suddenly, whatever it was threw its hands forward, green electricity bounding out and striking the queen dead centre. With a moaning grunt, it stumbled back. More bullets pounded into its body, and what Gordon realised was a Vortigaunt charged another blast.

This one killed the beast, sending it stumbling around for a few moments before whimpering to the ground pathetically. Gordon would have felt sorry for it, but he was sure he had struck his head on the rocks and thought he had a concussion. Although without the HEV suit to helpfully tell him and sort it out…

The other Antlions either retreated or where killed by the machinegun. As the weapons-fire crackled through the air, the Vortigaunt bounded over him. A blurry brown hand was thrust in front of him, and he found his glasses waiting for him in the spindly palm. He gratefully took them, although the air was officially gone from his lungs, preventing him from vocalising a simple 'thank you'.

Unaware or uncaring of his condition, the Vortigaunt gestured for him to come along.

"The Freeman must follow," he growled.

With that, it set off, leaving Gordon sat on the ground. It stopped for a moment, and then returned slowly.

"The Freeman will do wise to heed our extraction of the Myrmidon's aromatic Pheropods," it said, as though that was enough to make him fight past the pain.

Well, it wasn't.

Gordon nodded breathlessly. "Just… give me a minute…"

A red eye came into few, concern wrought on the Vortigaunt's features. "Is the Freeman… damaged?"

It sounded positively aghast at the notion.

A sigh escaped his lips in-between all the panting. "The suit…"

"Ah." The Vortigaunt stood back, extending a hand forward, palm open. "If the Freeman would remain still."

Gordon did as he was told, and a gentle bolt of blue energy… well, it didn't quite strike him as much as it faded into existence between them. His HEV suit groaned appreciatively, beeps and voices sounding off far too quickly for him to keep track of. He watched as the power rating went up, reaching just above 50% before it began to slow.

The energy stopped, and the Vortigaunt stretched it's face into what Gordon guessed was a smile. "That is all this one can spare."

The HEV suit did its work quickly; Gordon was feeling better already. Smiling, he tentatively got to his feet. He still felt a little bit shaky, and decided it was best not to push it.

"Thank you."

His gratitude was waved away. "The Freeman has done far more in the service of Vortikind."

Gordon frowned. "Yes, uh… about that…"

"Now," the alien announced, clapping its hands together. "The Myrmidon's aromatic Pheropods," it continued, walking to the dead body of the Antlion Queen. "The process is not entirely hygienic. Therefore, stand aside."

He did as he was told. It was nice to be taken care of in such a way. Usually it was just 'Gordon, go there and do that' and people would just leave him to it, as though he knew exactly what the hell they were talking about and would be able to pull it off in record time.

Although he _did _do that, it wasn't deliberate. Half the time he wasn't aware he _had _accomplished something until after the fact.

His attention was brought quickly back to the Vortigaunt as it blasted into the Antlion Queen, a quite frankly disgusting spray of green blood and internal organs tumbling through the air.

The Vort waited for a moment before squatting down and reaching into the creature's innards. Gordon closed his eyes at the squelching. When he dared to open one of his eyes, he found the Vortigaunt standing in front of him, a fleshy coloured bulb about the size of softball clutched in its blood soaked hand.

Grinning, the Vortigaunt gestured for him to take the… whatever it was. Pheropod, that was it.

Wait, Pheropod? As in pheromones?

He wanted the Antlions to leave him alone, not start lusting after him. Somewhere he could hear Barney laughing just at the thought. Trying not to wrinkle his nose too much, Gordon plucked the Pheropod from the Vortigaunt's spindly grasp.

"Thank… you…"

The Vort bowed its head modestly. Oh sure, it was easy to be modest when you had just handed over some alien monster's sex organ. It wasn't so easy being the guy still _holding _said organ. His newfound companion bounded away into the base, and Gordon slowly followed, gently shaking goo from the Pheropod as he went.

The whole base was basically a very tall cave, a 'corridor' leading him into a wide open space where makeshift shelters had been built out of nothing more than sheets of corrugated iron and planks of wood. Inside, old mattresses had been lined up where only a few rebels were sleeping. Most looked like civilians. This was probably one of many stops for innocent people just looking for a way to escape from the city.

He tried his best not to disturb them as he followed the Vortigaunt up a slope and past two more Vorts, both whom stared at him, dumbstruck. Gordon smiled weakly and did a little wave, which they replicated perfectly. It would have been funny if Gordon's hand wasn't dripping in alien goo.

A civilian (seemingly the only one awake in the base beside the unseen gunner, wherever the hell he was) waited for him in front of a fenced off cliff. Wooden panels blocked Gordon's view of what was below, but the man spoke and got his attention anyway.

"Get going, Doctor Freeman. Nova Prospekt is just ahead. One man alone wouldn't stand much chance going in there, but a man with a pack of Antlions… well, that's a different story."

He nodded to the Pheropod in Gordon's hand as he spoke, and the scientist looked at it a little more closely. It felt like a stress ball with something decidedly solid in the centre, and resembled an onion, just with little… well, he supposed 'feelers' was the most accurate term. They were all over the thing.

Ahead of him, his guide waved him over to a gate that would take him down to whatever the fence was stopping him from seeing. He followed the Vort through and down a pathway before ending up in a deep cavern lit by strung up lights above their heads. A large crater of a pit lay in front of Gordon, two empty paint pots strewn about. On a thick wooden post on his right, a Combine body hung limply. Gordon hoped it was just a mannequin.

"The Freeman will now be instructed in the use of Pheropods. Attend now, and learn to shepherd Antlions with the so-called 'Bug Bait'."

'Bug Bait'. Right. That was what Lazlo's friend called it. Gordon regretted that he hadn't thought to ask the man his name.

"The Freeman will now break out his Pheropod, and toss it into yonder pit."

Gordon held it up. "The… whole thing?"

"Indeed."

"But what if I need it again?"

"Then the Freeman will be forced to retrieve it."

"Retrieve it?"

"Indeed."

He looked around for support of his point of view. "But… what if I'm being shot at?" This wasn't sounding especially practical.

The Vortigaunt thought on it for a moment. "Retrieve it _carefully_."

He stared into his companion's red eyes for a moment before shaking his head. "Right. Sure."

Feeling a little despondent over the whole thing, Gordon tossed the Pheropod into the pit. With a fizzling squeaking noise, a cloud of brown gas rose up from the pod, tiny yellow spores drifting around and upwards. From somewhere deep into the cave, he heard Antlions digging themselves out of the ground, quickly followed by the pitter-patter of deadly flesh-tearing feet.

But instead of buzzing over to him and ripping him to pieces, they simply trotted into the pit and waited patiently by the paint pots.

Impressed, Gordon looked to the Vortigaunt, who smiled and nodded.

"The Freeman can also coax his Antlions to attack specific targets." With a grand gesture, he indicated the post with the Combine body. "Observe the training mannequin and mark it well with the Pheropod."

An eyebrow shot up behind his glasses. "With the-" He looked to the pit, where the Pheropod lay between the two Antlions.

"The Freeman need not fear," the Vort said dismissively. "Holding the Pheropod has coated you with enough of the Myrmidon's scent to make you… acceptable to them, even revered."

He sighed. "They think I'm their mother, don't they?"

"If the Freeman prefers that explanation."

No. The Freeman really did not. But, needs must…

He jiggled his shoulders about to loosen himself up before slowly edging into the pit and to the Pheropod. The Antlions just stared curiously at him as he picked up the pod achingly slowly and backed out of the pit.

Gordon let out a breath, and looked back to the Vort. "So just… throw it?"

"Indeed."

He did so, and the same brown cloud drifted up. The Antlions were upon the mannequin instantly, their claws tearing stuffed limbs from the body.

In the closest approximation of a grin it could manage, the Vortigaunt said, "The Freeman excels at all things."

Feeling decidedly unimpressed with himself, Gordon just stared apprehensively at the mannequin, which bore little resemblance to a human body anymore. The Vort was off again, and Gordon dipped in to pick up the pod, surprising himself with how easily he adapted to the idea of the Antlions as allies. Then again, it was much the same as his initial reaction to the Vortigaunts.

His tour guide took him to a wooden barrier made up of two thick wooden logs suspended from the ceiling by a thick cable. Following it, he found it led back to where he had spoken to the rebel before, hooked up to a cable tower.

"Now, attend well," the Vort grumbled. "Apply pressure to your Pheropod to signal the Antlions in your command to follow you."

Gordon gave it a squeeze, expecting a spurt of alien liquid stuff to jump out at his face. Surprisingly, it just made a grumbling squishy noise. Not too bad, he supposed. The Antlions scuttled eagerly up to him, skidding to a halt at his feet in their excitement.

"The Freeman once again shows his excellence in all tasks. And now, this one must bid the Freeman farewell. Nova Prospekt lies just beyond," he said, waving to the wooden barrier. "Remember well what you have learned here. The Eli Vance has greatest confidence in you."

That last part sounded (and looked) like a prayer, the Vortigaunt planting its spindly hands together and bowing its head.

"Thank you."

Its head shot up at Gordon's words, and it smiled gratefully before waving to the rebel by the cable pulley. With a mechanical grunt, the cable started moving, lifting the logs up above their heads. After another nod to the Vort, Gordon went on his way.

As he made his way through the cave, the gentle scuttling of more Antlions approached from around a corner up ahead, and Gordon tensed. However, as they rushed up to meet him, they simply ran around behind him and formed… well, not an orderly line, but at least a quiet huddle. Aside from the occasional idle croak or flutter of their wings, they didn't do much of anything except wait for him to move.

Nodding, Gordon treaded on around the corner, coming out along a darkened coast. With a frown, Gordon looked back to the cave. Had he been in there that long? The sun had been setting when he arrived, sure, but still…

The Antlions stared at him questioningly.

He sighed. "Right. Sorry."

And now he was apologising to Antlions. Wonderful. As they moved on, a Thumper lay in their path along the beach. Thinking nothing of it, Gordon walked by until he heard the screech of the Antlions, unable to pass by the device.

"Oh, yeah."

Gordon found a ladder leading up to the small platform like he had at the docks earlier that day. Clambering up, he switched it off, and a small alarm sounded for a few moments before the Thumper died. In the distance, he heard that same dulled female voice droning on.

"_Priority warning. Perimeter restrictors disengaged."_

And here came the fun. Ignoring whatever else the voice was blathering on about, Gordon slid down the ladder with an ease that surprised him and led his 'team' further onto the beach.

He came across another Thumper further down the coastline, and deactivated that one too. This time, the woman was silent, replaced instead by the warble and squawk of Combine radios. He slid down the ladder with a little less grace this time, almost falling off halfway down as a bullet panged loudly against his head. Gordon only now realised he had no guns, and yanked around the Gravity Gun. Although what the hell _that _would do, he had no idea.

Scrambling around the Thumper as more bullets sparked against it, Gordon was busy looking for something to throw at them with the Gravity Gun when the Antlions launched themselves forward at the soldiers. Gordon didn't see much, but from what he could hear, the Combine were less than happy to see them. A few gunshots, grunts and flat-lines later, Gordon poked his head around to see the Antlions bunched around the dead bodies, waiting patiently for their mommy.

Once more impressed, Gordon smiled and made his way over to them, scooping up an MP7 from one of the soldiers. The coastline became rockier as they went along, and Gordon found his view of the next patch of land blocked by a wall of rock. Back against it, he sidled around and took a look. High powered bullets sent chunk of stone and dust up into his face, and Gordon stumbled back, falling flat on his rear. The Antlions just watched him curiously.

There was a bunker at the top of the slope, a small slit of a window allowing soldiers to poke their mounted guns through. A Thumper pounded away in the middle of Gordon's path, which, naturally, would put him completely in the line of fire of the bunker.

Sighing, Gordon launched himself out into the open, being careful not to clutch the Pheropod in his hand too tightly. He didn't need to be tripping over Antlions right now. Something occurred to him as he reached the Thumper and ducked down behind it. With a sigh, Gordon looked up. From the top of the ladder he would have a pretty good chance of throwing the thing and actually getting it to the bunker. Hopefully there would be an entrance that the Antlions could get through, and… voila. No more soldiers.

Clambering up (and trying his best to ignore the bullets), Gordon ducked down for a few moments before standing and letting off an aimless barrage from his MP7. Content that they weren't going to be shooting him at least for second or two, Gordon gave the pod his best throw. He couldn't even tell where it went.

He slammed a hand down on the button in front of him, and the Thumper silently deactivated. The bunker opened fire again, and Gordon ducked down. He heard Antlions buzzing overhead.

A few moments later, the firing stopped. Another few seconds, and he heard a Combine yell something decidedly uncomplimentary to Antlions and their relations before his garbled voice was replaced by a flat-line.

Gordon smiled in disbelief. Antlions. Who would've thought it?

The Combine's intimidating presence was diminished somewhat when you had an army of vicious killers following you around. With little effort on his part, Gordon managed to clamber and run his way past armed bunkers and through complex tunnels and along crevices before finally finding himself hiding behind a rock on a long, sloping field. A cliff-face on his left towered above him, and further along he could see walkways and ladders grafted on, leading to the top. Large, thick pipes jutted out of the rock face, rusted metal bars making them seem more sinister than they were.

He guessed they were from Nova Prospekt. Or at least, he hoped so. As much as having Antlions slashing their way through Combine soldiers was easy, there was always a lingering paranoia in Gordon's mind that the Antlions would run out, or wouldn't be able to get to him in time. Or they might notice that he in no conceivable way resembled their mother.

Machinegun fire died down, and an Antlion poked its head around Gordon's cover, clicking curiously. He nodded wearily and hefted himself to his feet, Pheropod in one hand and MP7 in the other. Walking past the thick drainage pipe in the rock face, Gordon found a cliff-side path, the darkened waters below seeming all the more ominous from the moonlight bouncing off them as they crashed against the rocks below.

The path wound its way around before taking him up and to an open sewage pipe. He walked straight into it, and had to throw himself forward to avoid the rabid zombie firing out at him from the darkness. It flew overhead, and skidded to a halt at the mouth of the tunnel. Cursing himself for getting to so complacent, Gordon scrambled to his feet, the shallow water beneath him rendering the MP7 drowned and useless.

Just as he started to worry that he might not be able to yank his crowbar out in time, an Antlion claw speared the roaring zombie through the chest. It looked down at the green appendage before being tossed out of the tunnel and off the cliff behind it. And Antlion poked its head around, and Gordon couldn't help but smile. It was like they were seeking approval. Perversely, it seemed more genuine than some of the hero-worshipping rebels he had come across today.

Trudging through the network of fairly spacious tunnels (although after all the air vents he had squeezed himself through, a cardboard box would seem sparse), Gordon could see up into the courtyard of Nova Prospekt through thickly interwoven grates. With each one he passed by, he noted one more watchtower, each one with four manned guns.

He made his way into the pool of water at the end of the tunnels, putting him out in the open air again. A ladder on the far side took him up and into the courtyard.

Silence.

Radios grumbled.

Guns clicked.

Spotlights flashed.

Alarms sounded.

Gordon sighed.

The One Free Man, running haphazardly for his life. Again. He looked to the Antlions, who were already on their way to the soldiers on the watchtower walkways.

"Might as well get on with it…" he said to no-one, slipping out his crowbar and darting off the grassy verge and up onto the main area of the courtyard. His boots crunched on dried grass and ancient broken bottles as a familiar roar filled the air.

_Ah, Gunship. How I have missed you._

A 'corridor' on the far building had been set up out of military green canopy, metal ammo crates giving Gordon his best bet of getting out… _into_ this place alive.

He shook his head as he ran. Breaking _into_ a prison. He was glad there was a beautiful girl involved somewhere in the equation, so he would have some excuse when explaining this to his therapist in a few years time.

'Beautiful girl'? Where had _that _come from?

Gordon tossed himself over the wall of crates that had been set up as cover, rudely interrupting two soldiers who were in the middle of the stocking up ammo.

"Hi."

He was sure he heard a sigh from one of the soldiers just before Gordon conked him around the back of the head with his crowbar. The other at least _attempted _an attack, which Gordon sidestepped and was about to counter when an Antlion flew up into the soldier's face, knocking him onto his back and making quick work of him. Gordon was grateful. The fight would have gone on far too long, and he didn't have the time to waste at the moment.

A rocket launcher caught his eye as the thudding blades of the Gunship chopped through the air. He frowned. They sounded different. Sidling up to the cover afforded by the ammo crates, Gordon got a view of the sky. A gunship flew past.

Then another one.

"Oh good. There's two." He looked down at the Antlion, which stared back up at him adoringly.

"Did you know there were two? If it turns out you did, I'll be annoyed."

The Antlion clicked, and then flew away, on the scent of something else. Good thing, too; Gordon was starting to talk to alien wildlife, which really wasn't on his list of things to do with his day. Of course, neither was breaking into a highly guarded prison, but that was neither here nor there.

He tossed the rocket launcher to the ground. There wasn't much chance of him taking down _two _gunships, and the launcher would just be extra weight he didn't need. The Gravity Gun alone was beginning to chafe on him. Figuratively speaking, of course.

A small office made up the corner of the wall that Gordon was approaching, bland yellowy light spilling out of the windows onto the courtyard. Combine radios squawked and mumbled from within. Gordon scooped up the rocket launcher again and jammed a rocket into the front. Keeping an eye on the skies, he ran out into the courtyard, whirling the rocket launcher around as he went. The two soldiers inside the office had only just noticed his presence before the rocket blasted inside and exploded, glass and office supplies tossed aside like so much dust.

Gordon threw the launcher away as a gunship roared above him, and he started a long sprint down the pathway ahead of him. A turning to the left presented itself, as well as another office a storey above him. As Gordon rounded the corner, two soldiers appeared in the windows, taking whatever shots they could manage as they yelled angrily into their radios.

Gunship fire thudded into the ground behind him, sending chunks of cement and grit into the air. Three jabs of hot pain slammed into his back, hitting his right leg and spreading up to the small of his back. Crying out, Gordon tumbled, rolling along the ground until he collided with the wall at the end of the alleyway.

Looking around, he found an overturned dumpster on the other side of the courtyard. He limped his way over there, keeping his head down as the soldiers still fired their irritating bullets in his general direction. The gunship was circling around, waiting patiently for another pass.

The other gunship came into view over the building, roaring its approval at having seen him. Gordon ducked inside the dumpster as it fired, the heavy bullets leaving dents the size of fists in the metal dumpster. It wasn't going to last long.

With a vicious hiss, Gordon heard the Combine radios suddenly cut out, followed by the familiar buzz of Antlion wings as they went onto their next target. Explosions sounded in the distance. At least they weren't all focused on him. It reminded him of Black Mesa, charging across helicopter landing pads while soldiers and aliens the size of rhinos exchanged fire and blood.

He blinked as one of the gunship bullets smacked into the concrete in front of him, the dust making his eyes tear up. The fire seemed to stop for a moment, so Gordon dared a quick peek out. Both gunships were circling around. Gordon dashed out and took stock of his surroundings. Stairs behind the dumpster led up to another level, which in turn led to the office the now-deceased soldiers had been firing from. And, interestingly, a sizeable hole in the wall, presumably from some of the explosives the soldiers had been throwing around at the Antlions.

The wobbling light from flames flickered from inside, but Gordon wasn't particularly fussed. Fire, the HEV suit could deal with. Gunship bullets…

Both ships roared, and Gordon started running, the faux-morphine of his suit not quite reaching the limp in his leg just yet. More bullets sent clouds of dust and chunks of wall blasting into him, but Gordon just ducked his head and soldiered on, taking one more shot in the shoulder before managing to collapse into the hole. He managed to push himself inside the building with only his legs, cradling his injured right shoulder as he went. The HEV suit blathered on about damage, but Gordon tuned it out. It probably wasn't the best idea, but he really was getting sick of the woman's voice.

A complicated web of thick and thin pipes weaved in front of him, the fire he had spotted from outside just in front of him. Gas hissed menacingly, fuelling the flames. The red paint of a pressure valve attracted his eye, and Gordon grabbed on, twisting it for all it was worth. A few grunts later, and the fire was out.

Gordon continued on, the crowbar in his hand tapping against the pipes as he negotiated his way through them. He frowned and looked down at the offending weapon. He didn't remember taking out the crowbar.

Sighing at the fact that a quiet, meek little scientist now had a crowbar reflex after only a few days, Gordon worked his way through some curiously low-tech doors and corridors. The Combine probably didn't see the point in that much security inside the prison. After all, who would be stupid and/or insane enough to try and break _in _to Nova Prospekt? They would have to be a complete lunatic. Crazy. Nutso. Absolutely off his rocker.

Gordon opened another door, revealing the eerie pale blue halls of Nova Prospekt.

He stepped through.

* * *

(A/N: And once again, I find the character interaction stuff the most fun. Gordon and the Vortigaunt was great to write. Although Gordon versus the Gunship at the lighthouse was pretty neat, I think.

Anyway, thanks for all the review! Please keep them coming!

_Next Chapter: Nova Prospekt_)


	10. Nova Prospekt

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Half-Life.**_

_**Welcome to City 17**_

_**Chapter Ten: Nova Prospekt**_

A cold chill ran up Gordon's spine as he entered Nova Prospekt. Since his HEV suit regulated his temperature (for the most part), he guessed that it was just nerves. Cool blue light shone through thin, reinforced windows in the upper corner of the ceiling on his right. Gunshots crackled for off in the distance, both outside and from the corridors around Gordon.

He was on an upper level of a cell block, an entire wall of small, cramped cubicles on his left, the doors long since left hanging open, rusting with age. Weakened, crusty metal guardrails ran alongside him, only a bare few flecks of pure white paint even surviving. He could see down to the floor below over the guardrail. It looked like there were only two floors to his block.

Gordon went to the stairs, which shook as he walked down them. A few tugs of the large exit gate at the end of the corridor told Gordon that, while old, it was still too sturdy for him to move forcibly. Given it's age, he seriously doubted the keys even existed anymore.

Cells ran along both walls on either side of Gordon. Most were locked, and didn't have anything of much use to him anyway. Some were open, but only one of them held anything interesting.

Well, Gordon classified a tremendous hole in the back wall as 'interesting', anyway. Peering through, his glasses were almost knocked from his face by a flying headcrab, which collided uncomfortably with the side of the small tunnel next to Gordon's head. He whacked the crowbar on it for good measure. Satisfied that it was either dead or out cold, Gordon crawled inside the tunnel wondering just what could have made such a hole. It could have been the headcrab, or equally the previous occupant of this cell could have been a genuine Andy Dufresne.

It always disturbed Gordon just how much Barney would cry at that movie.

Something screamed from far inside the prison. Or at least, it sounded like a scream to Gordon. It could have easily been screeching metal.

Barely here for five minutes, and he was already spooked beyond reason.

The tunnel brought him out in a small office. Probably not the warden, but… someone important enough to warrant an office, obviously. A few toppled filing cabinets had broken the desk that sat beneath another very thick window. Dust and smudges prevented Gordon from seeing much of anything through the windows.

An open doorway stood where Gordon guessed there was once a door, judging by the splintered patches where the hinges would have been.

He was in another cell block. Following the stairs and the sounds of gunfire (something he never thought he would find himself doing in his entire life), Gordon wandered the prison until he found a corridor on his left, blocked off by thick bars. Behind them, two Combine turrets had been set up, both pointing away from him and down into another cell block. They looked like tall, thin cameras, set up on tripods. The only thing that distinguished them as halfway working was how they scanned from left to right, pinging ominously as they went.

A squad of Antlions tried their utmost to reach the machines and knock them from their tripod bases, but any that got close were torn to shreds. Gordon pulled out the Gravity Gun. With a press of a button, one turret was sent tumbling into the air, beeping wildly as it fired in all directions. It looked almost like a panic attack. Gordon did the same to the other. Like animals freed from a pen, the Antlions happily scurried up the stairs and past Gordon, heading for whatever the hell they were going for in the first place.

Gordon tapped a finger against the Pheropod in his hand, grateful for its presence.

In a rare piece of luck for Gordon, he had managed to break in to an abandoned section of the prison. The only trouble he came across were hastily erected turrets, and the majority of them were facing away from him at clueless Antlions.

After taking out two more that were placed on a balcony two floors above him (radiators made such good cover when you had a Gravity Gun), Gordon noticed a distinct change in the air. It felt cooler, moist. Almost like stepping into the bathroom after someone had had a shower, only without the humidity.

Treading carefully down a corridor he quickly realised was an observation point for guards, Gordon looked to his right and found himself overlooking what must have been the showers. Communal, obviously. They looked positively rank. Whether that was due to them being left in disrepair for years or something altogether more unpleasant, Gordon couldn't tell.

There didn't seem to be much more he could do from where he stood, so Gordon clambered over the guardrail and hopped down to the ground floor, some of the tiles cracking under his boots. Gordon frowned down at them. Someone could cut their feet open on that. He rolled his eyes at the fact the thought had occurred to him.

Two doors in the middle of the wall on his right would probably take him out of here, he reasoned. He headed for the door.

Something grunted loudly in protest. Something alien. And something big. Gordon just _knew _it had to be big. In fact, that particular grunt sounded familiar-

The wall beside the doors exploded outward in a shower of dust and tiles. An Antlion mother twitched and snorted irritably. Or furiously, Gordon wasn't very good at reading the emotions of alien monsters from other dimensions. Which he thought was very odd, considering his references.

Its long, horse-like head whipped over to look at him like a surprised Tom glaring at Jerry.

Gordon looked for a mouse hole. He found one in the form of a literal hole in a wall behind him, albeit blocked by barrels. Hefting the Gravity Gun around as he ran, Gordon spared only the quickest glance over his shoulder at the approaching Antlion beast before blasting away, knocking over two barrels before sliding like a baseball player reaching for home.

Was that right? Reaching for home? Maybe it was stealing home. No, why would they steal home?

He decided to put aside the mental discussion about his (limited) knowledge of baseball when the Antlion crashed through that wall as well.

Slipping on the wet tiles a few times, Gordon started running, charging through two doors into another large washing area, this one with a long line of sinks running down the middle. And there, in the wall behind them, were two more doors.

These had been blocked by laundry trolleys, barrels, benches… basically, everything except (ha) the kitchen sink. Sometimes, Gordon hated Barney for putting such a dire sense of humour into his head.

The Antlion mother was coming for him again, so Gordon vaulted dramatically (and painfully) over the sinks, coming to a kneeling stop before the door. He blasted away with the Gravity Gun, some of the barrels almost ricocheting back down on his head. Gordon glanced over as the Antlion mother bore down on him, and Gordon sprang back so he was laying on the floor, facing up at the monster.

After smashing into the last few objects that were blocking Gordon's way, it looked down at him. Gordon blasted it in the face with the Gravity Gun.

With a noise halfway between an indignant snort and a cry, it stumbled back a few paces and shook its head. Almost like it was sneezing. Well, that was good. He had a weapon that could give Antlion mother congestion with one blast.

He went for the doors, happy to once again see the murky corridors of Nova Prospekt proper again. Turning back, he saw the Antlion mother come for him again, only to slam headfirst into the top of the door. Squatting down, it tried to squeeze its way through. No luck there, either.

Not really wanting to run the risk of being in the area when it finally crashed through the walls, Gordon turned and ran, grateful for the narrow corridors that would no doubt slow the creature down quite a bit.

When he eventually slowed down to a more reasonable pace, Gordon's eye was drawn to the black and white tiled floor. Patches of uncovered floor were dotted around the corridor in front of him, the tiles splayed about as though something had pushed up from underneath. As Gordon approached, a tiny puff of dust came up from the patch beside him.

Hand resting on crowbar, Gordon took another step forward. With an explosion of dust and a familiar low buzzing, a squad of Antlions clambered out, coming to an awkwardly sudden halt in front of him. They purred and rattled fondly in front of him, and Gordon ran a grateful thumb over the Pheropod in his hand.

He continued on down the corridor, the oddly comforting sound of the Antlions' foot-falls (well, claw-falls technically) tapping along behind him. As he passed the other patch of ground, more Antlions burst up to join his team. He crept around a corner and towards an open foyer area. A cell block on his left was blocked by thick metal bars. Above his head was an office overlooking the foyer. A wide doorway at the end of the room was blocked by a bright blue force field, just transparent enough to allow him a view of the other side.

It was a long corridor turning left at the end. Two turrets had been set up at the end of the corridor, and beeped urgently as they noticed his presence. Gordon shrugged. There was a force field, what could they do?

Three bullets zipped out and cracked into his belly and chest, and Gordon tumbled off to the left behind some barrels. Okay, so bullets can come through force fields. You learn something new every day.

The gate to the cell block opened, and the familiar mumble and crackle of Combine radios forced Gordon to shimmy out of the way. His Antlions got to work, hissing and snarling as they threw themselves into the fray with reckless abandon. All Gordon had to do was press his back to the wall and listen to them work. Which, considering all the screams and cracks and squelches, wasn't a particularly pleasant task.

When all was silent, Gordon slowly clambered to his feet and made his way into the cell block. A room at the far end of the block contained a Vortigaunt strapped to a chair. A very dead Vortigaunt. Burnt holes littered the body, including the eyes. Gordon looked up at the contraption attached to the ceiling. Lasers. A sigh escaped him, and he realised that not a few days ago he would have thought nothing of killing Vortigaunts in the exact same way.

He shook it off and made his way to some stairs beside the cramped interrogation room, Alyx's words seeping in.

"_It used to be an high security prison, it's something… much worse than that now."_

Gordon took a deep breath that surprised him with its shakiness as he made his way into the office that overlooked the foyer. A red button beneath the window seemed to be the way to go, and Gordon gently pressed it. He felt like he hadn't done anything gently for a long time now. Except when he was sneaking up on someone to kill them. That was always gentle.

The force field deactivated, and Combine radios squawked. Someone mentioned 'Anticitizen Freeman', which Gordon found very apt. It was sure as hell better than 'Opener of the Way'.

The Antlions didn't even need prompting. Before Gordon had even reached the bottom of the stairs, several Combine flat lines had already echoed around the cell block. With a glance back to the interrogation room, Gordon thought for the first time that perhaps the flat lines were justified.

Scooping up an MP7 from one of the fallen soldiers, Gordon lightly moved out into the foyer, slipping to the side of the entrance to the corridor. After poking an experimental leg out to check for the force field, Gordon stepped out, darting wildly back and forth as he went for the turret. Two Antlions sat where the turret had once been, and Gordon suddenly felt a bit strange zigzagging all over the corridor.

Humbled, Gordon rounded the corner. At the end of the corridor were two more turrets, stood neatly behind another force field. They squealed in protest as they spotted him, and Gordon's eyes darted around. An air vent at the bottom of the wall across the corridor. Gordon dove for it, Gravity Gun at the front as he blasted it from the screws nailing it to the wall.

He kept on crawling, bullets chipping at the tiles around his feet as he finally got his entire body inside. Antlions hissed and buzzed as they tried their utmost to get to the turrets. Gordon continued on. A large fan blocked his way, and Gordon could see another vent on the other side. After putting the MP7 on the ground, Gordon used the Gravity Gun to manoeuvre it into the fan blades. It became wedged between the blades and the thick metal frame, and something inside creaked loudly before sparks flew from the engine at the middle of the fan.

Gordon shrugged. It wasn't like this place was going to notice the lack of fine air circulation. He clambered into the vent on the other side, MP7 left behind in a single dented piece.

He blasted another vent cover off, sending it slamming into the back of an otherwise occupied Combine soldier. As he tumbled over with a grunt, Gordon shot to his feet as quickly as he could, boots losing traction on the chunks of debris scatted around the floor. He slipped the crowbar from his leg as the soldier managed to get back up. The crowbar cracked his helmet and sent him spinning back into the wall, where he collapsed to the floor in a heap. Gordon picked up his MP7 and tucked it under his arm.

Gravity Gun back in hand, Gordon went for the turrets, blasting them from their positions and sending them ricocheting wildly off the walls as they beeped in protest. A thick power cable led back to a rather large power socket plugged into the wall. Gordon disposed of it with the Gravity Gun, and was quickly joined by his old Antlion team. He smiled. He could learn to enjoy this.

Gordon wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his gloved hand. A rather grimy glove, at that. He frowned at the offending limb before continuing on through more ominously gloomy corridors.

Some stairs led up to an open doorway, thick bullet-proof glass framing either side of the entrance. Whatever door had once been there had long since been removed. Going to the window, Gordon saw a large sign reading B4. He guessed it was a cell block number.

One of his Antlion entourage must have noticed something he didn't, because with little more than a snarl it scurried off into the massive room. This cell block was certainly bigger and taller than the others Gordon had visited. At least four floors going up, maybe five, dozens of cells on each one.

It was only as the Antlion stepped over the threshold that Gordon noticed the red laser at ankle level. He threw himself down the stairs and over the other Antlions behind him, landing on two of them and sending them all rolling awkwardly around the floor. Gordon looked up. The windows were still intact. The doorway barely singed. Gordon moved back up to the window as the other Antlions burst into action.

Peering through the thick glass, Gordon could see the soldiers emerging from their hiding places, tipped off by the explosion. He watched the carnage from relative safety as a crackling, familiar voice echoed around the complex.

"_I have been asked to say a few words to the Trans-human arm of the Sector 17 Overwatch concerning recent successes in containing members of the Resistance science team. Let me say up front that I regret having to temper my heartfelt congratulations with a strong measure of disappointment. But I wouldn't be doing my duty as Administrator if I didn't pass on the message I have received from our benefactors."_

The good Doctor Breen. Gordon listened curiously, keeping an eye on the fight happening around him.More Antlions scampered in from down the stairs to replace those that fell in battle. Curiously, Gordon didn't feel much when he saw them die. He wondered why that was. He hoped it didn't make him heartless. He _wanted _to feel sad. That made it kind of okay, right?

"_The capture of Eli Vance is an event of major significance, make no mistake. And while it's true that conceivably we could have taken him at almost any time in the last several years, the manner of his capture may prove to have unexpected benefits."_

They could have taken him at any time? Gordon felt some relief that it wasn't his fault that the Combine found Black Mesa East. But if it wasn't because of him, that would mean someone else told the Combine where it was.

"_It cannot have gone unnoticed by all Resistance members that Dr Vance's capture coincided with the act of giving shelter to Gordon Freeman. This might cause other Resistance members to think twice before harbouring Dr Freeman. It might cause them to question his allegiance, even prompt some to turn him out or turn him over to our cause."_

That was something that hadn't even occurred to him. He had become so used to just drifting from place to place… usually he was greeted with either praise or antipathy. But someone bitter, angry at what had happened… and looking for someone to blame. He would be the perfect target for any of those feelings. Yet another reason he wasn't keen on being 'The One Free Man'.

"_However, we cannot count on such developments. Dr Freeman's reputation is such that other desperate renegades are likely to grant him a great deal of licence in the spirit of spreading general chaos and terror."_

Gordon was sure that was true. There were probably plenty of people all too willing to use his appearance as an excuse to start a Combine bloodbath. A grenade rolled perilously close to the doorway, and Gordon punted it away with the Gravity Gun. He spied two soldiers heading for a mounted machinegun at the far end of the first floor. Some stairs just around the corner from his doorway led up to the second floor. He darted out, high powered bullets thudding against the wall and ground as he ran.

He rolled behind the wall, stopping to take a breath as Breen droned on.

"_This brings me to the one note of disappointment I must echo from our benefactors. Obviously, I am not on the ground to closely command or second guess the dedicated forces of the Overwatch."_

Gordon was sure he heard a Combine soldier scoff somewhere.

"_But this does not mean I can shirk responsibility for recent lapses, and even outright failures on their part. I have been severely questioned about these shortcomings, and now I must put the question to you: How could one man have slipped through your forces' fingers time and time again? How is it possible? This is not some… Agent Provocateur or highly trained assassin we are discussing! Gordon Freeman is a theoretical physicist who had hardly earned the distinction of his PhD at the time of the Black Mesa Incident. I have good reason to believe that in the intervening years he was in a state that precluded further development of covert skills."_

Gordon's head whipped up.

"What?"

He barely realised that he had said that out loud. Breen knew about him, and his… state? How did…

"_What?!"_

Breen continued.

"_The man you have consistently failed to slow, let alone capture, is by all standards simply that; an ordinary man. How can you have failed to apprehend him?"_

Gordon lay a hand on the wall behind him, as though that would steady him. Breen _knew_? Breen knew.

Breen. _Knew_.

His hand clenched tighter around the gun. All the more reason to find the bastard and beat it out of him. Gordon thundered up the stairs, heading for the walkway that ran along the first floor of cells. As he approached the corner, a soldier ran around. Gordon ducked his head down and ran headlong into him, shoving the soldier over the guardrail and to the floor below. Gordon snatched a grenade from his belt. The soldier grunted loudly on the floor, something cracked, and he flatlined.

The scientist kept on running, Breen's echoing words hollow in his ears as he ducked in and out of open cells, gradually edging his way towards the mounted machinegun. There was only one soldier manning the gun now.

"_Well. I will leave the upbraiding for another time to the extent it proves necessary. Now is the moment to redeem yourselves. If the Trans-human forces are to prove themselves an indispensable augmentation to the Combine Overwatch, they will have to earn the privilege. I'm sure I don't have to remind you that the alternative, if you can call it that, is total extinction, in union with all the other unworthy branches of the species."_

Satisfied he was close enough, Gordon tugged the ring from the grenade and darted out of the cell, tossing the grenade behind the soldier at the gun. Instincts taking over, the soldier leapt away. The grenade went off, and Gordon moved out as the smoke wafted up into the air, tearing through the soldier with the MP7.

Their work done on the other floors, the Antlions joined him. Stairs behind the machine gun led up to another floor. More soldiers awaited them. Taking cover behind a pillar, Gordon let the Antlions take care of the rest.

"_Let's not allow it to come to that. I have done my best to convince our benefactors that you are the finest the species has to offer. So far they have accepted my argument. But without concrete evidence to back it up, my words sound increasingly hollow even to me. The burden of proof is on you. As is the consequence of failure. I'll just leave it at that."_

God, Gordon hated Doctor Breen. More floors awaited them, and more soldiers. Pheropod in hand, they weren't much of a problem for Gordon. Much of his time was spent crouched in a corner while the Antlions ran kamikaze missions for him, charging headlong into gunfire and explosions without a second thought.

Gordon decided he would feel guilty about it later.

After a particularly long fight in a laundry room (which Gordon found himself getting involved in when some soldiers snuck up behind him and tossed him inside), Gordon and his team found themselves creeping beneath two rather large windows in a darkened corridor. Although really, they were all darkened corridors. Gordon hadn't come across a well lit interior for some time.

There was an open door in the wall beside the windows, and Gordon poked his head around to get a better look inside. It was a kitchen, a long stainless steel table in the middle of the large room, drawers and cabinets lined up underneath. Large fridge-freezers and further counters were on the left side, while on the right, gas cookers and ovens ran along the wall.

And something was hissing. Sniffing the air, Gordon smelt gas. Oh good. And it looked like the door on the other side of the kitchen was the only way forward.

Gordon tried to sneak inside and behind the middle counter. The turret at the far end of the room spotted him. As did another that had previous gone unseen beside the cookers.

Gordon sighed and jumped for the windows, hoping they were as thin as they looked. The explosion behind him took care of the rest, slamming him through the glass and into the wall in the corridor on the other side. Several more explosions sounded in the kitchen as further gas canisters blew. Antlions crowded around him concernedly. He groaned as he heaved himself up into a sitting position. Amazingly, his glasses were only slightly askew. Readjusting them as he got to his feet, Gordon considered the possibility that maybe he wasn't going to be a scientist ever again.

It was a rather depressing thought, so Gordon squashed it by walking into a flaming kitchen, loyal alien death creatures following him.

Flames consumed the kitchen. The explosion had left a decent sized hole in the wall opposite, but Gordon wasn't going to bother trying to navigate his way through flames. Toxic waste? Yeah. Monsters? Easy. Fire? No. Just no.

He headed for the door, when something caught his eye. Something in the flames. Something… moving _through _the flames?

A dark hand launched out of the inferno, grasping onto the thick collar of his suit and yanking him around violently. Gordon felt himself get tossed through the air, smashing through what was left of the crumbling wall and through some charred shelves on the other side. He landed on an old canteen table which collapsed beneath him, dust billowing out around him.

Gordon adjusted his glasses and reached for the Pheropod. It was gone.

Lovely.

Eyes on the fire, Gordon clambered to his feet, one hand on the Gravity Gun behind him and another on the crowbar.

Victor strode evenly out of the flames, dark armour making it impossible to tell if he had burns. But Gordon could see the stitches where he had been repaired. Not that it looked like the injuries from St Olga's had had any effect.

Two Antlions sprang from the flames, knocking Victor around in an awkward stumble. He turned on them, crushing one into the ground with his fist, and grabbing the other by the front claws. A black boot pressed down on the front of creature, and Victor stamped down as he pulled on the claws, severing them from the crushed body. More Antlions emerged from the flames and went for him. Using the claws as knifes, Victor fought them off, moving as viciously as the creatures attacking him.

Gordon scrambled for the thin stairway behind him, bars blocking his way. The sound of a train's horn echoed from the blue light outside. He couldn't see much, just that everything was crumbling and destroyed on the outside. There was another stairway going up on his right.

Crowbar in hand, he sprinted up, the sound of Victor's battle with the Antlions moving him faster.

A soldier waited for him in the office above, whirling around the corner with MP7 at the ready. Gordon swiped the gun from his hand with the crowbar. The soldier replied with a right hook which Gordon ducked, countering with a crowbar assisted uppercut, smashing through the gasmask and leaving his opponent unconscious on his back.

Another soldier was behind him, gun at the ready. Gordon turned and leapt behind a metal table there. He slipped the crowbar away as the bullets thudded angrily against his cover. He brought the Gravity Gun around and picked up a small filing cabinet with it. Leaping up to his feet, Gordon blasted it into the soldier, hitting him dead in the face and sending him tumbling out of a cracked window to the floor below the office. Gordon peered out of the semi-circular observation window that ran along his left side. It looked like the canteen, except that the wall on the left-hand side of the room had completely caved in, rubble and dust long since settled there.

What could have made an entire wall crumble like that?

Victor interrupted his thoughts, grabbing the head of the Gravity Gun and throwing Gordon around towards the opening in the bullet-proof glass. Scrambling to his feet, Gordon didn't even have time to reach for the crowbar before Victor threw a fist at him. Gordon darted to the side, and the soldier grabbed the strap of the Gravity Gun, turning it into a garrotte that sent Gordon's legs flying out from underneath him and to the ground.

His singular red eye looking down at him, Victor slowly stepped around Gordon until he was standing over him, his back to the opening in the window. Gordon brought the Gravity Gun around, and blasted it in Victor's face. It didn't do much, but it did enough to make him take a step back. Gordon launched forward in a tackle, sending them both plummeting from the office and down the several floors to the canteen below.

They both landed solidly on their backs. A cloud of dust slowly sifted into the air as Gordon stared up at the ceiling in abject pain. He looked up at where Victor lay, the soldier's head lying close to his. He seemed to be out.

"Good," Gordon grunted, feeling around for his glasses. After a few moments of searching, he realised they were on his forehead, and he slipped them down with a clumsy swipe of his hand.

His body ached, and the back of his head ached from where it had hit the tiled floor. The HEV suit blithered on as it always did about impacts and medical attention, and Gordon did his best to ignore it. He just concentrated on the power levels. Under half.

He sighed as he sat up, looking around the silent room. No gunshots in the distance, no screaming or snarling, just… silence. It was nice.

Something shifted behind him, and Gordon turned around. Victor was sat bolt upright.

Gordon scrambled backwards, finally getting to his throbbing feet and bringing the Gravity Gun around. He considered going for some closed doors on the far side of the room, but they were closed. If they were locked, he would have his back to Victor, which in no way would be a good thing.

Victor was on his feet, and took only a moment to register his presence. He started for him.

The doors on the far side of the room sprang open, a soldier flying through and between Gordon and Victor. They both looked to the body sprawled out before them, and then back to the doorway. Another soldier flew out. Then another.

Finally, a familiar looking Antlion mother crashed through the doorway, leaving it to collapse wildly behind it, blocking the corridor off.

This time, it seemed, it wasn't pissed at Gordon. It was just _pissed_.

It went straight for Victor, throwing him across the room and into the debris filled wall. Not satisfied with that, it charged at him again, ignoring Gordon for time being. Maybe because of the leftover pheromones?

Gordon physically slapped himself for theorising at a moment like this. He could see an opening in the corner, old bars left open and partially blocked by a dumpster. It was beside the debris wall, but, after looking around the room, Gordon couldn't see many other options.

More soldiers poured into the room as he ran for it, blasting away at the Antlion mother. None of them noticed him slipping out into the debris filled corridor beyond. Well, maybe Victor, but he had his hands tied.

Gordon wasn't going to depend on that, though. He continued on, despite having no idea where he actually was. Fresh air in his lungs and pure light showing him the way, Gordon stumbled through the debris ridden walkway he found himself on, stumbling down some creaky metal stairs and over a zombie. It snarled to life as he walked over it. Gordon didn't even think twice as he impaled the headcrab to the wall with his crowbar, and yanked the weapon out with equal speed.

He lowered himself down from the floor at the bottom of the stairs into an immense, debris filled canyon. A metal wall extended up on the right hand side, towering above him like a skyscraper. It was jagged and uneven, like hideous overlong teeth. The wall on the left looked like the remains of an old building. He could see the flicker of flames coming from a hole in the wall, and started for it. As he went, something creaked loudly in the metal wall.

One of the teeth slowly rose up, looking more like a mighty hydraulic finger as it went. Gordon scrambled faster, gathering no traction in the crushed rocks and debris. Metal spokes from what were once walls tripped him up at every opportunity. Finally, using the remains of a table poking out of the ground, Gordon managed to clamber his way into the hole in the wall.

The finger came down like a hammer, smashing into the wall just a few feet down from Gordon, an immense cloud of dust churning out and over him. Gordon put his arm over his face to prevent most of it getting to him, but some still managed to tickle his throat.

What the hell was that thing? With the amount of 'teeth' it had, it was almost like it was… _eating _everything surrounding it.

Coughing from the dust, Gordon continued into the hole, looking for a way forward. He got it when his foot landed on nothing, and he went tumbling down into a pit beneath him.

Oh, this was going to hurt.

* * *

(A/N: Hey everybody, thought I'd squeeze in a quick Christmas present for you all in the middle of all the festivities. Anyway, I hope you all have a happy holiday, and I'll see you in 2010!

Oh yeah, and reviews would be great, too. :P)


	11. Entanglement

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Half-Life.**_

_**Welcome to City 17**_

_**Chapter Eleven: Entanglement**_

It did hurt.

A fine, dusty mist rose from around him as he stared up at the high ceiling, his right foot barely aware of the small fire crackling away beside it. He closed his eyes, took a breath, and heaved himself up into a sitting position. The HEV suit beeped and told him he was in pain.

"Thank you," he muttered, marvelling at the wonders of modern science.

Getting to his feet, Gordon swayed uncertainly before shaking it off and moving onwards, one hand resting on the crowbar at his thigh. He climbed down another hole in the ground and into a dilapidated corridor, the entire wall on his left side collapsing in on itself. A chunk of rock tumbled to the floor beside him as he walked.

The horn of a Combine train blasted through, and Gordon's pace slowed a little. As he moved to the mouth of the corridor, which ended rather abruptly, Alyx Vance caught his eye.

She was stood at a control panel at the end of a walkway in front of him, just far enough away that he went unnoticed by her. Combine radios chattered out of Gordon's vision, and gunshots rang through the air. Her scowl set in stone, Alyx slipped a handgun from a holster and whirled around, charging as she fired. It sounded like a machinegun going off.

Gordon silently dropped to the ground below. The path took him underneath the walkway Alyx had been walking on. Shadows moved and flashed as another train shot along the rails beside the walkway. The gunfire stopped, and a Combine soldier tumbled down through a gap and onto the ground in front of him.

He saw the glint of a pulse rifle, and knelt to scoop it up.

"Hold it there."

He froze, though he wasn't sure why. He knew it was Alyx, since there weren't female Combines. Were there? Looking up, he saw Alyx soften immediately from where she stood on a stone platform next to the walkway.

It made him realise just how long it had been since he'd seen a familiar face.

"Gordon, you made it. Boy, am I glad to see you."

He smiled and waved weakly. "Hi."

She looked around warily, slipping her gun away. "We'd better hurry, Gordon."

Alyx shot off out of sight to the left, and Gordon walked along the path, coming around the corner in time to see her leap to the ground.

"I'm glad you made it here in one piece," she said, her voice rather quiet.

He smiled. "You too."

Alyx returned the smile, but it melted away when her eyes slowly drifted upwards. Gordon followed her gaze, and tried not to gasp. The walls extended up like a skyscraper, a network of thick metal poles weaving their way from wall to wall and up and down the area. Tall, human sized metal pods were attached to the walls, clamped onto the metal poles and using them as rails to move about.

They were the same pods he had seen… that he had been _shown_ by Him. Was this the place he had seen? But then… it was far too quiet and slow. What he had seen was busy, hellishly so.

"My dad's up there somewhere, in that holding area. It's going to take some doing to get him out. "

She sounded as haunted as he felt. There were _people _in those things?

"Let's get out of here."

Alyx moved to a big control panel next to some heavy looking metal doors. Yanking something out of her belt, she held it out in front of her, putting a protective hand over her face. Gordon peered over her shoulder as closely as he dared, watching as she pressed a button on the flashlight-sized device. The top of the stick opened up, electricity buzzing away. It flashed suddenly, and so did the control panel, sparks flying wildly before the lights dimmed.

The doors opened, thin and thick sections shooting up into the ceiling. It was like watching Tetris in reverse. They walked through and into an old corridor, the lights barely giving off enough illumination to show them where to go. Alyx seemed to know what was going on, however, and moved to an elevator on the right.

"What is that?" he said, nodding to the device she was slipping away.

Alyx looked at him curiously, and Gordon suddenly became aware that he had barely spoken to her the last two times they had met. Not that he talked much anyway.

"It's something my Dad and Barney cooked up," she said, stabbing a finger at the elevator button. "It shorts out the security for a little bit, although Dad keeps on telling me it's more complicated than…" she trailed off, and her face tightened up.

Gordon left her alone, although it was more out of awkwardness than any kind of respect for her privacy.

Her eyes closed, she took a deep breath. Boy, she was pretty.

Gordon frowned. Probably best to ignore that last thought.

The elevator doors opened, and they stepped inside. It was surprisingly old.

"I'm afraid I'm flying blind here," Alyx said, her voice almost lost by the rumbling of the elevator as it ascended. "Every once in a while a Vortigaunt gets captured and sends back information, but we don't have a complete picture of the place. The little we do know is all bad."

He wasn't sure what to say, but he logged the bit of information about the Vortigaunt in the back of his mind. Probably telepathy of some kind.

Without warning, Alyx slipped out her gun. "Get ready."

Gordon hefted up the pulse rifle, enjoying and loathing the feeling of having a gun again. The doors clattered open, and Combine radios chattered. A corridor stretched out in front and off to the right of them. A small open doorway was in the wall just in front of Gordon, the darkness inside making the yellow lenses of the Combine soldiers' helmet all the more visible.

He shoved himself back into the elevator as the soldier opened fire, and two more sprang out from behind some crates in the corridor directly in front of them.

Alyx leapt out of the elevator and to the right, firing off a rapid burst from her oddly machinegun-like handgun. The soldier in the small room went down.

Gordon switched walls in the elevator, letting off a barrage of gunfire as he went. He only hit wooden crates. From where he stood, his back pressed to the left wall, he could see that Alyx had taken cover in the room the soldier had been in. She snuck out and towards the crates.

He shot her a warning glare, which she must have seen because she just frowned and shook her head before continuing on.

Huh. No-one had said no to him today. At least, no-one on his side.

Pulse rifle clenched in his hands, Gordon stormed around the corner and towards the crates. Alyx gave him a look of surprise and outrage as he leapt into the crates, tumbling through them and knocking the two soldiers on the other side all over the place. He ended up lying on his back, a crate on his belly.

They managed to scramble to their feet faster than him, and Gordon started to reach for his crowbar, the pulse rifle lost in the tumble.

Bloody bullet holes exploded onto them with little red puffs of mist, and they collapsed to the ground.

He looked up at Alyx.

"That… was pretty stupid, Gordon."

Gordon thought about it. "Not really."

"They could have shot you, you know."

He pushed the crate off and sat up, tapping the Lambda symbol on his chest. "HEV suit."

"They could have shot you in _the head."_

He frowned, confused. "But… they never aim for my head."

"Well, someone might someday, Gordon." She put out a hand, and he took it.

"Good point," he grunted, getting to his feet. "I, uh… thank you. I'm not used to people shooting soldiers for me."

Alyx frowned.

"It's nice," he added quickly. "It's… it's not a bad thing."

She smiled a little, though Gordon could feel the confusion in the air.

"Over here," she said slowly, nodding to a tall metal door. Alyx went to a little red lens in a panel beside the door, and pulled out the lock picking device. It did its magic, and they were inside. It was a rather small room, with a wide control panel taking up the wall on the left and a tall window in front of them allowing a view of the pods outside.

"This should get me into their security system," she murmured as she started typing, although it was more to herself. "Now to find my father."

Gordon moved to the doorway and scanned the corridor, flexing his cramped hands around the pulse rifle.

"Oh, my God."

He turned to Alyx, who was entranced by the monitor in front of her. Profile shots of people either asleep or unconscious. Vital signs bobbing up and down on each of the faces seemed to indicate they were alive. Gordon wasn't sure if dead would be better or worse for them.

"These poor people."

Moving up beside her, he let the rifle drop down to his side. "Where… are they?"

Alyx nodded to the window. "Ready for augmentation," she noted bitterly.

"What? What does that mean?"

She gave him a look which indicated he should know this, but told him anyway. "The soldiers you've been fighting. They're not human. Not completely. They've been augmented by Combine technology. Some more than others."

"Wait… Barney's a CP. Does that mean that he-"

"No, CPs are all human," she said distastefully. "Just volunteers who want to be on the winning team."

A familiar face appeared on the screen, and Gordon pointed. "There. Eli."

She jabbed a panicked finger onto the control panel, stopping the horror slideshow. "All right. I _think _I can bring him in."

While she worked, Gordon checked the doorway again. No-one yet. Was it hot in here? It felt hot.

"There! He's on the way."

Checking back with Alyx, he saw she had moved to the window, and was intently watching one of the pods slide along a metal rail and go towards a room directly above them. She only turned to him once the pod was completely out of view.

"Let's go meet him."

He nodded, and she shot past him and out the corridor. She seemed to know where she was going, so Gordon didn't say anything to disturb her. Damn, she was fast. Yet another thing he wasn't used to; keeping up.

After sprinting through a few corridors and locked doors that looked the same, Alyx darted into a doorway that went up some stairs. Gordon, just a few paces behind her, watched from the foot of the stairs as she darted off to the left at the top. He ran up and saw a soldier come out of the corridor on the right, shotgun cocked and ready.

Gordon charged headlong into him and slammed him into the wall. Lodging the pulse rifle against the Combine's neck, he fired, spattering the wall with blood.

He heard gunfire coming from the next room over. After a quick check around for more sneaky Combines, he moved quickly down the corridor and bolted through the doorway. The dead body of a soldier lay at his feet. A sudden smack against a window beside him made him jump a little, and he looked over into the small office on his right. The body of a Combine soldier slowly slid down the window, squeaking as it went.

Alyx emerged from the office, brushing flecks of dust and drywall from her hair and shoulder.

"You okay?"

He ducked his head a little. "Am I_… _Are _you _okay?"

"Yeah, fine," she said simply, frowning, smiling and looking a little put out. "Why?"

Gordon wasn't understanding this conversation. "Why? A… soldier almost shot you in the back."

"What? That one?" she asked, nodding to the dead soldier at the doorway.

"No, a different one, in the corridor."

Alyx seemed a little fearful at the implication, but covered it quickly. "But you got him, right?"

He just nodded.

"Good. Let's go."

Conversation apparently over, Alyx slinked off into the office. Gordon felt as though he should say more, but Alyx was moving too quickly for him to stand around thinking of something relevant to say. So, frustration twisting his mouth a little, Gordon followed along.

By the time he caught up with her, she was standing in front another very big metallic door with a terminal beside it.

"He should be in here. Let me just get this open."

After a few failed attempts at trying to hack in with the keyboard, Alyx just yanked out the lock pick and blasted the thing. After a tense pause from the machine, the doors moved outwards before sliding open on their hinges.

This room was very similar to the observation room from earlier, although the view from the window was blocked by one of the pods. The window, while tall, curved inwards, allowing pods to rest in it. Probably for interrogations and the like.

"There he is. All right, let me see if I can get this open."

She moved to the terminal in the corner of the room, and succeeded after only a few seconds of button pushing. A complicated series of latches levers worked away on the pod, swinging it forward and into the gap afforded by the curved window. Two more arms moved around and opened the now loose front of the pod, revealing the bound Eli inside. Metal bars kept him in place. Trying to grab him now would have been useless anyway, the glass looked incredibly solid.

Eli blinked and looked around blearily. Finally, his vision settled on Alyx, and lucidity returned sharply.

His voice echoed a little, not in the least muffled, which made Gordon a little curious.

"Alyx? Gordon! Is that really you? I can't believe you found me."

Alyx rested her hands on the window between herself and her father. "Dad, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, but you? You've got to get out of here."

Determination set her features. "We're here to get you out, Dad."

"Never mind me," he said, sounding so very desperate. "Save yourselves."

As much as Gordon appreciated the words, he knew they were mostly directed at Alyx. The target of said sentiment, however, wasn't having any of it.

"No. We're not leaving you. I think I can recalibrate the Combine portal to get us out of here."

Gordon had never seen Eli on the verge of panic before. It was uncomfortable. What made it worse was that none of this panic was for his own sake; it was on their behalf.

Eli swallowed visibly before speaking again. "But where will you go?"

"I talked to Dr Kleiner. His portal was almost working again. If he's managed to repair it, we'll end up there. If he hasn't, well…" She looked to Gordon, smiling a little desperately. "…we couldn't be any worse off."

"It's not worth the risk, Alyx," Eli pleaded. "I can't lose you." Some words went unspoken, but Gordon knew already.

She was all Eli had left.

"Get out while you can."

Alyx took a deep breath, as if dealing with a stubborn child. "We're not leaving here without you. That's _final_."

Suitably taken aback by the scolding, Eli just nodded before looking up with something else on his mind.

"We can't leave Judith here, either."

Satisfied that she had won the argument, Alyx nodded the statement away. "Don't worry, Dad. We'll find her." She wrung her gloved hands a little. "For now… I'm going to send you to the teleport chamber."

She glanced over at Gordon awkwardly. He moved to the doorway and turned his back to them, giving them some room. He was feeling enough of a third wheel as it was.

"I'm not saying goodbye, Dad," she said quietly. "We'll meet you there."

"I know you will. I'll see you there, baby." Gordon could see Eli's proud smile in his mind's-eye, although it was still the younger Eli he imagined. He wondered how long it would take to get used to thinking of him as an old man.

There was a silence, and Gordon turned to see Alyx heading for the terminal. His gaze caught Eli's, and the elder man called him over with a gesture of his head.

"How are you?" Gordon asked quietly, surprised at how casual he made it sound.

A gentle smile graced Eli's features. "Uncomfortable. Makes me long for a Black Mesa Transit System bench."

"Ouch."

They shared a smile before Eli looked over at Alyx, diligently working. "Gordon… look after her."

He smirked and shook his head. "Eli, she seriously doesn't need-"

"_Damn it, Gordon_," he hissed, and Gordon's smile disappeared. The older man looked him eye to eye.

Gordon's throat felt very dry.

"She's _my daughter_." His eyes were glassy, but still intense. "You make sure I see her again."

Legs suddenly very wobbly, Gordon nodded. "I will. I promise."

Keeping his gaze a while longer, Eli blew out a tired breath. "Thank you."

Alyx turned to face her father, and then exchanged a silent goodbye before she pressed the final button that closed up the pod and whisked it away, sending it to the teleport chamber.

They both stood at the window and watched the pod until it became lost in a sea of others.

Gordon looked over at Alyx. "You okay?"

Her eyes were slightly pink from tears, but she nodded anyway, her voice uneven as she spoke. "Let's get out of here."

She rushed on out the doorway, and Gordon followed sombrely behind, doing his best not to disturb her. He liked to think this was because he knew she wanted to work through these feelings by herself. But he was fairly sure he was just afraid to talk to her.

She stopped at a doorway at the end of the hall, and blasted the control panel beside to let him through. The rickety looking door opened without a complaint, revealing a dank, cramped little corridor with pipes on either side tucked away behind fencing. When she didn't make a move to go through, Gordon looked to her questioningly.

"Are we going?" he asked quietly, trying not to sound too obnoxious.

Alyx shook her head, and hooked a thumb back to the room they had just come from. "I'm going to head back to the security station and try to patch into your suit radio. Wait until you hear from me."

Her gaze travelled to the dim corridor, yellow light bulbs barely leading the way. "Hey, take care of yourself."

She didn't look at him as she said it, only looking him in the eyes for a brief moment before darting off back down the corridor.

Gordon watched her go but tried to stop himself from really _watching _her. She was Eli's daughter, after all. Annoyingly, that was becoming somewhat of a mantra in his head.

Blinking away such thoughts, he proceeded through the corridor and through the door at the other end, boots clomping with surprising noise as he went. Having just spent so long by himself, it was nice to have had the company, at least for a little while. Now that it was gone again… well, he supposed everything was going to seem a little louder when there was no-one to talk to.

He came out into another cell block, a gate on his left preventing him from going any further inside. Gordon tugged at it half-heartedly with one hand before backing up a few steps to look at it more completely. He considered shooting at it, but that technique only ever seemed to work when he was in some desperate hurry.

The decision was taken out of his hands when a monitor in the top corner of the room burst noisily into life, static fizzling away for a few moments before Alyx's face filled the screen.

"_Hey, it worked," _she muttered, concentrating on the controls beneath the screen._ "Let's see what I can do to clear the way for you. Keep an eye out for Mossman. I'll get my dad as far through the prison as I can, then I'll catch up with you."_

Gordon nodded. It sounded reasonably enough. He tapped the gate in front of him, looking to her. "Can you, uh…?"

She glanced up from her work. _"Hm? Oh. Hang on, I'll see if I can figure out how to get that gate open."_

He heard her tap away diligently before looking up unsurely at the gate._ "There you… go?" _

Nothing happened. Just in case, Gordon pulled at the gate in an attempt to slide it.

"Nope," he said, looking up at her again.

Then the gate opened.

"_Oh, ye of little faith."_

Gordon smiled before slipping through into the next corridor.

And so on it went, a clueless Gordon wandering the halls of Nova Prospekt while Alyx redirected him at every junction, usually with some amusement in her voice. He tried to keep his irritation to himself as he headed into a thrumming generator room, the two turbines sat on the right hand side of the room.

There was an entrance to another corridor on Gordon's right, but an old office sat in front of him attracted his attention. Gordon ventured inside, looking for any supplies.

"_Be careful Gordon, I'm picking up a lot of Combine sensors in the area ahead."_

He froze in the doorway at that, but then just nodded his agreement and stepped inside. There was a metal crate of grenades inside, along with a sparse table and a flickering monitor in the top corner of the room.

"_Gordon?"_

"Yes?"

"_Did you hear me?"_

He frowned. "Uh… yes. I nodded."

"_Gordon," _she sighed,_ "I can't see you nodding if there's no camera."_

Readjusting his glasses, Gordon leant back out of the doorway and looked down the corridor he had just come from.

"Oh. Sorry."

"_Never mind," _she laughed, which in turn made Gordon smile. The laugh abruptly stopped._ "Uh-oh. Look at the monitor."_

Gordon did so, and spied four soldiers stomping down a corridor, at the end of which he could see the generators that rested right next to him.

He snatched up two grenades and ran to the corner of the entrance to the corridor. Pulling the pin on the grenade, he slammed it down onto the floor upright before shooting off back to the earlier corridor for cover.

Two soldiers burst onto the scene, one only just noticing the grenade in time for it to explode in his face. The blast killed him and sent the other soldier crashing headfirst into the wall behind him.

Gordon dashed out from the cover and ran past the entrance to the corridor, tossing the second grenade inside. A garbled 'shit!' echoed out from one of the soldiers, and they both ran out into the open to avoid the blast. As the grenade exploded, Gordon fired a spread of bullets, managing to hit both of them in the head and dropping them like stones.

Catching his breath, Gordon looked around for a camera. Finding none, he just settled for tilting his head up.

"Any more?"

No response. He probably wasn't near a camera. Although… wasn't Alyx patched into his suit radio? That was what she had said, anyway. He made his way back to the office just in case, poking his head through the doorway and looking to the monitor.

"Alyx?"

"_Uh, no, no. I can't see any more soldiers." _She cleared her throat loudly before quickly continuing on with, _"but that doesn't mean more aren't on the way. You'd better keep moving."_

A little befuddled by what had gotten into Alyx, Gordon just nodded. "Right. Good point."

He trundled on through the bleak corridors and hallways, lights flickering and passages blocked by collapsed ceilings. Only the occasional squawk of a Combine radio kept him on his toes, but he trusted Alyx to warn him of any incoming soldiers. It was strange to rely on someone like that. Scary, too.

"Alyx?" he murmured, not sure if there was a microphone hidden in his suit he should be talking into.

She sounded like she wasn't expecting him to speak. _"…yeah?" _

"Um… you _will_… warn me, if… you know, soldiers are coming."

"_Yes…"_

"Good. Just checking."

He reached the end of a corridor that branched off in two directions.

"_Left," _she added helpfully.

Gordon went left.

It took Alyx a few moments to speak again. _"Gordon?"_

"Mm?"

"_Why would you think I wouldn't tell you?" _she asked curiously, her voice cautiously tilting between offended and amused.

Realising just how that question could have been interpreted, Gordon stopped and looked for a camera. Finding none, he just settled for standing still.

"Sorry, it's nothing like…" He sighed. "Sorry."

She didn't reply for awhile, so Gordon just kept on going. He felt like a jerk. He hadn't felt that way before. At least, not since he started running and fighting for his life. He had killed and watched people die, sure… but this was the first time he felt like he had offended someone, and actually _cared._

Strange how all these different kinds of pain could co-exist. Horrible, too.

"_You're coming up to another control room," _Alyx blurted out, making him duck his head a little._ "Looks like it's still occupied."_

There were some stairs in front of Gordon which in turn led to another set of stairs on the left. Peering around the corner, Gordon saw into a rather large observation room, with a large computer terminal on the left and some metallic alcoves on the right. At the far end of the room was a long, semi-circular window that overlooked… whatever it was it overlooked - Gordon couldn't tell from this far away.

A soldier was stood at the terminal, checking some readouts. Another was staring out the window, head scanning from left to right robotically.

Gordon paced up the stairs as quietly as he could, sliding out the crowbar as he went. He snuck up behind the soldier at the computer.

Aiming his rifle at the window soldier, Gordon blasted him through the back and head before swinging the crowbar through the mask of the suitably alarmed computer soldier. Both of their radios flatlined, quickly replaced by that same female voice that had echoed throughout City 17, this time wittering on about incursions and cell blocks.

"_My guess is there's a bunch more soldiers heading your way." _

Gordon grunted and nodded, half-listening as he dropped his current rifle and picked up the one the computer soldier had been using.

"_Quick, search the room. There should be some Combine turrets nearby."_

Hazel eyes flickering around the room, Gordon finally settled on the metal alcoves on the wall opposite the computer. In both were the same turrets that had given him hell while he had wandered the halls with his Antlions. Force fields prevented him from getting at them, but they switched off as he approached. He assumed that was Alyx's work.

"_I can reprogram the turrets to attack the enemy. You set them up to defend the control room."_

There were three sets of stairs leading into the room. One was the set he had used to get in. The other two were on opposite sides, nestled in the corners beside the computer and the alcoves respectively. He set the turrets up at the top of the two new staircases, reasoning that he could defend the entrance he had come through.

Slowly creeping to the window, he peeked his head over and saw a block of cells on the floor below, all of them closed. Gordon didn't want to think about what kind of prisoners could be trapped inside. Force fields blocked all exits down below, cutting off corridors that went to the left and the right.

A frustrated groan escaped Alyx. _"I can't shut down those fields from here. I'll have to catch up with you to get access to them."_

He heard the steady thumping of Combine boots. And, surely enough, there they were, passing through the force fields like they weren't even there.

"_I'm picking up a lot of incoming soldiers…" _Alyx said, not sounding the least bit concerned. In fact, she sounded positively indifferent.

"_Hold the fort 'til I get there."_

"Okay…"

Gordon checked the rifle, but gave up with a floundering motion of his hand when he realised he had no idea what the hell he was doing.

The turrets bleeped angrily and with a very high pitch that seemed to tweak Gordon's eardrums a little. Then they opened fire, which was an entirely different kind of overwhelming noise.

They did their job, though. Gordon had half expected them to break down; it would have been _exactly _his luck for turrets to be highly efficient killing machine when they were against him and then suddenly become useless as soon as they were on his side.

Alyx, however, seemed to have the magic touch, because the turrets didn't miss a beat. Gordon wondered where they got all their ammunition from. From where Gordon was crouched, he only occasionally caught a glimpse of a soldier _almost _reaching the turrets before they collapsed in a heap.

It went on like this for what must have been ten minutes, and still the turrets tirelessly mowed down every single soldier that dared come around the corner.

Finally, _finally_, the gunfire started to die down, and the turrets went into what Gordon assumed was standby mode. He slowly got to his feet, gripping the rifle intently as he crept to the corner beside the computer. Giving himself a mental count up to three, he swung around, rifle at the ready.

A heap of Combine bodies awaited him, the stairs barely visible beneath them. A cursory check of the other stairway brought pretty much the same prognosis; Combine soldiers were deadly, but a little bit stupid.

"_Be there in a second, Gordon."_

The suddenness of her announcement made Gordon jump a little, although it was nothing compared to the shock of an air vent cover slamming to the ground behind him. A small yelp escaped him as he whirled around, rifle at the ready.

And Alyx dropped to the ground.

"Sorry it took me so long," she said pleasantly. She looked around the room, and, seeing no obvious signs of a fight, looked a little confused. But she shook it off and smiled.

"Glad to see you're okay." Her eyes settled on the computer behind Gordon, and she nodded to it as she walked by. "Let's see if we can find Mossman. It looks like this station might give me better access."

Alyx tapped away diligently on the keyboard while Gordon checked the exits. It felt a little odd that they would send so many soldiers and then suddenly just stop. Maybe they were waiting to catch him out later. Catch _them_. Gordon wasn't used to thinking in plurals. If Alyx was sticking around, he would have to get used to it.

"There she is."

He turned around, his patrol forgotten for the moment. There she was, all right. But it was just her stood around working at a computer station.

Gordon and Alyx looked at each other, and he pointed a confused finger at the screen.

"Uh…"

"Wait a minute, how'd she…" Impatiently mashing away at the keyboard, she hit pay dirt when Dr Breen's off-screen voice echoed out from the screen.

"_-from your area."_

Mossman shook her head. _"I'm not calling about that."_

"What's she up to?"Alyx whispered, more to herself than Gordon.

"_You promised me you weren't going to touch Eli."_

Gordon felt like his stomach had just dropped to his toes. Alyx too, judging by the look she had on her face.

"Oh my God-"

"_The soldiers were a bit overzealous, I admit," _Breen said,_ "but he was too tempting a prize to simply turn loose…"_

Alyx's face knotted in anger.

"…_especially in the absence of Gordon Freeman."_

Although he could feel her eyes on him for just a moment, Gordon couldn't look at her. He was just enraptured by what was happening on the screen.

Sounding frustrated, Mossman sharply said, _"You would have had Freeman if you'd just been patient and waited for my signal."_

His throat suddenly dry, Gordon swallowed. He couldn't believe this.

"_We weren't entirely sure you were ever going to get around to that. Human loyalties being what there are."_

"_Dr Breen-" _Mossman dropped her head. She took a breath, and started again, slowly._ "As I have stated before, you have got to let Eli come around on his own, you can't just-"_

"_I have known Dr Vance far longer than you, my dear. I'm afraid your feelings for him may have blinded you-"_

She looked offended by the very word. _"Feelings? This has nothing to do with feelings."_

Gordon's grip on the rifle tightened. Obviously not.

Mossman continued on. _"It's a simple fact that when Eli believes in our-"_

"_This is not open for debate, Dr Mossman."_

"_Dr Breen, please-"_

"_So sorry Judith, I'm all out of time."_

And that was the end of the conversation. Alyx slammed a fist down on the keyboard, blanking out the monitor.

"Damn her, I don't believe this!" Hands shaking almost imperceptibly, she buried her face in them.

Not feeling particularly steady himself, Gordon looked to her concernedly. "You okay?"

"I'm…" she sighed, and let her hands drop. "I just didn't see this coming. I mean, I know we had our disagreements, but… I figured that just meant she was even more likely to be on our side. Being an asshole isn't the greatest cover, y'know?"

A desperate laugh escaped her, and Gordon smiled, which was the only thing he felt like he could offer at the moment.

Quickly enough, Alyx shook it off. "Come on Gordon, now we've _really _got to hurry."

And just like that, everything was back to business. Alyx at the computer, guiding him on.

"Go on ahead," she said, nodding to the body-filled stairway. "I'll disrupt the next level of security and catch up with you when I can."

He nodded and took a step before pausing and looking back to her.

"Alyx."

Looking for all the world like a surprised animal, Alyx stared at him.

"Don't worry," he said slowly, "we'll find Eli. Then we'll find her." That didn't sound satisfactory to him, so he thought about something Barney might say. "And then, uh… we'll kick her ass?"

Disbelief was the overriding emotion on her face. Then she smiled, which quickly gave way to a laugh. She came up shaking her head, focusing on the computer.

"Go on, get going."

Smiling at what he hoped was a job well done, Gordon moved on down the stairway of dead Combine bodies. None of them even grunted as he stomped down on them. Turrets did nice work.

The force field was off, and Gordon carefully slipped through, ears perked for the sound of Combine boots or radios.

Truth be told, he wasn't sure how to feel. He hadn't really known Mossman for that long, so really, any judgements he made about her were the fact that she was an awkward person to be around in the first place, which she had only made worse by her now betraying him.

On the other hand, a part of him was relieved that it wasn't the Combine tracking _him _that got Eli captured. The Combine had attacked before Mossman could send them a signal, which means, really, it was all her fault for giving them a back door to Black Mesa East.

He shook his head. Eli was captured, Mossman had betrayed them, and he was in an insanely frightening stronghold of an alien superpower. And what was he doing? Patting himself on the back for not screwing up.

After navigating his way through some old rickety doors and down through an old basement area, Gordon found himself clambering out of a rusty stairwell and into another cell block. D8, according to the sign.

There were two entrances; one directly on Gordon's left, and another much further down, also on the left. Peeking around the corner, he saw a row of cells on the ground floor, and some storage rooms on the floor above that.

On the right Gordon saw a wall dividing the block into two sections, two passageways leading to another set of cells mirroring those closest to him.

A soldier had his back to him, and Gordon slowly moved in behind him before giving him a swift blow to the head with the back of his rifle. He crumpled to the floor. Blue light bathed him from behind, and Gordon looked around in alarm to see his exit blocked by a force-field. Looking to the other end of the block, he saw another field in place there.

He dashed through the passageway and checked the other half of the block. More force-fields. Combine radios chattered away. Confused, he wandered back to the other side, feeling a little lost.

"Oh, an _ambush_…" he announced to no-one, realisation dawning.

"_Gordon?"_

Resigned to the upcoming violence, Gordon sighed, "Yes?"

"_I'm picking up more incoming soldiers. See if there are any turrets nearby."_

Ah, there was an idea. Blinking himself back to reality, Gordon got searching. As he went through the passageways, he noted storage boxes strewn about the place, most of them unopened. Something else that caught his eye was a balcony on the first floor that led into some hallway up above. A hallway that seemed to go quite far back…

He started to put together a little strategy.

On the ground floor was another gate, control panel beside it. Through the bars he could make out some stairs going down. That would be the way out, then.

Putting that aside for the moment, he moved into the other passageway and found four of the metal alcoves he had come across in the security station earlier. Only three were occupied, but for what he had in mind, three would be just fine.

A red button in the middle of the alcoves indicated something important, so he gave it a healthy slam with his palm. The force-fields in the alcoves switched off. Tossing his (for the moment) useless rifle to the ground, Gordon hefted the Gravity Gun around and picked up one of the turrets.

He moved out into the main cell block area and blasted it up into the hallway on the first floor. Going back, he repeated the process with the others.

"_Gordon, you might want to hurry up with those turrets."_

Concentration a must at the present moment, Gordon just waved away Alyx's concern. "Don't worry, I'm…"

He aimed the last turret.

"_Gordon?"_

"Sorry, just… give me a minute…"

He fired, and the last turret was up there. More Combine radio chatter, this sounding much closer by.

He swiftly moved to the crates and scooped them up with the Gravity Gun, carefully moving them into makeshift stairs. He only needed two tiers before he clambered up and latched onto the guardrail of the balcony above. Arms slightly weaker than his manly pride would ever let him admit to Alyx, Gordon struggled for a moment to pull himself up and over, legs kicking wildly. On the plus side, this knocked over the crates, so the soldiers would have to look around first before figuring out where he was.

With a final 'whoof' Gordon yanked himself over, landing in a heap on balcony floor.

"_Here they come."_

"Right, right," he breathed, scrambling to the turrets strewn about all over the long hallway. Forgoing the Gravity Gun this time, Gordon just picked them up himself and positioned all three along the balcony, pointing outwards.

The gates opened with a loud metallic clang, and Combine boots thundered in, their radios squawking angrily.

There was a corridor on his right, so Gordon ducked inside there rather than moving all the way to the back of the hall. A door at the other end of the corridor was locked, and there wasn't much light, but it didn't really matter. Gordon rested against the wall and slid to the ground, allowing himself a smile as the turrets wailed to life and started their onslaught.

Within a few minutes, there seemed to be a lull, and Gordon started to get up.

"_More soldiers are coming, Gordon."_

He sat back down.

Again, the soldiers fired hopelessly at the turrets. Some even threw grenades, but Gordon just rolled out of the corridor for a moment to punt them right back with the Gravity Gun. They didn't try the grenade thing again after that.

"_We must have hit the mother load of soldiers, they're coming in from everywhere."_

"Really?" he murmured, concentrating on a patch of dirt on the back of his glove that was unlike any other stain on the suit. Purple, shiny, yet _not _sticky? Where was that from? Ant-Lions? Did he fall in something purple and slimy? He _did _fall a lot, and it _was _usually something sticky. But purple? Purple wasn't really an overriding colour in his travels. Just depressing beiges and greens. So much green. And so many different shades, too.

Gordon smiled. _Ah, morphine. How I have missed you._

"_Okay Gordon, I'm going to leave off here and catch up with you. Be there as soon as I can."_

"Okey-dokey," he managed, stretching. Wow, it really _had _been a long time since he had rested like this. It was just that five minutes sleep at New Little Odessa, and _that _was interrupted by a _very _strange dream.

Wait, hold on. Frowning, Gordon tilted his head so his ear was turned up to the sky. The shooting had stopped. No boots, not Combine radios. Just nothing. A little disappointed that he would have to get up again, Gordon heaved himself to his feet and slowly shifted along the wall until he could poke his head around the corner.

Nothing. Two of the turrets were still standing, while one of them had toppled back.

"Gordon!"

Wow, that radio link sounded better.

Wait…

He moved to the balcony and looked out. Alyx, gun in hand, was cautiously wading through the ridiculous amount of bodies gathered around the balcony. It looked like they had all come to watch him make a speech. Before they all spontaneously died, of course.

Alyx spotted him up above, and although confused, she seemed happy to see him.

"Sorry to take so long, Gordon. Looks like you could have used some help," she said, fretting a little as she slipped her gun away. "I won't leave you again, though. Now let's track down Mossman."

Unsure of what to say, Gordon just shrugged before awkwardly swinging his legs over he guardrail of the balcony. He jumped off like he was landing on a bouncy castle, the Combine bodies providing a surprisingly soft cushion.

Looking a little amused by that display of supreme agility, Alyx did her best to cover it as she moved to the computer beside the gate.

"Gordon?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

A little distracted, Gordon offered her a small glance as he searched for a new gun amongst the bodies. "Hm?"

"Before… when I said I was on my way… did you say 'okey-dokey'?"

He paused in the middle of rolling over a soldier that was strewn across a shotgun. "That… is a possibility, yes."

"Uh-_huh…"_

"Morphine," he offered half-heartedly. "It… has more of an effect when I'm resting."

Alyx stopped typing, and looked to the sea of bodies around Gordon. "Resting?"

Gordon looked down at the bodies for just a moment. He shrugged and adjusted his glasses.

Smiling and shaking her head, Alyx turned back to the computer and hit one final button, opening the gates.

"Come on, Gordon," she said offhandedly, as if this were something they did all the time.

Strangely, it felt everyday to Gordon as well.

He nodded and followed her down the stairs, backing up and checking the area behind them before turning and chasing after her. They raced down a corridor with some double doors at the end. Through those doors, they entered another long corridor going off to the right. As it went further, it branched off to the right, separated by a fence.

Then the lights went out. Combine radios bleeped and grumbled away.

"Uh-oh."

She heard Alyx pull her gun from its holster. Gordon pumped the shotgun.

A Combine voice counted down incomprehensibly before brilliant red flares tumbled through the air, some rolling to a stop in front of them while others were content to take a position at the far end of the corridor. Yellow-eyed masks moved in the distance, and Alyx opened fire, moving forward and ducking behind a crate on the left for cover.

Gordon started running for the fenced area, ignoring Alyx shouting out her name.

He jumped and rolled to the other side of the fence, where a lot of crates waited for him. Bullets thunked loudly against the boxes, wood splintering. Looking over through the fence, Gordon saw that Alyx had moved in parallel with him. She glanced over at him and opened fire at something just behind him. He heard a grunt, and, peering around the crate, saw a soldier topple to the ground.

Nodding thanks, he rose quickly and bent over the crate with the shotgun, taking a few blind shots down the corridor.

Alyx stood and fired when he crouched down again, and he made a charge to get further down the corridor. As he went he spotted two soldiers heading for Alyx. He took them down with an ease he was used to now. Ricochets above his head made him duck down further, and a bullet or two managed to hit him sharply in the ribs. The breath knocked out of him, Gordon dove for a metal ammo crate and slid to momentary safety.

He looked over the top and saw he was near the end of the corridor. There were about eight of them, three further back down the corridor and moving in on Alyx. The other five had spotted him. He hopped up into a squatting position and threw himself forward, blasting one of the soldiers through the shoulder and neck as he went.

Pumping the shotgun as he rolled, he took aim and came up empty. He spared the quickest of angry glares at the weapon before staring helplessly up at the soldiers.

A bullet burst through the head of the lead soldier, and Gordon looked over in surprise to see a scuffed and slightly bloodied Alyx coming up the corridor, gun blazing before she kicked over a table and ducked behind it.

Gordon dropped the shotgun and charged into the four remaining soldiers, crowbar slashing through the mask of one before another smashed him in the face with the butt of his rifle. He went with the force of the impact and whirled around to face another soldier, suddenly ducking down and sweeping the crowbar through his legs. The soldier hit the ground hard.

Another soldier fell from Alyx's gun, blood spattering on Gordon's back as he turned into soldier that had hit him, stabbing into his belly with the long end of the crowbar. He grabbed his rifle as the last soldier brought his own weapon up to Gordon. In response, the scientist brought the rifle up in an awkward uppercut, sending his opponent's bullets into the ceiling. Gordon fired and blasted three holes in his face just as Alyx did the same to the soldier Gordon had tripped up earlier on.

Breathing heavily, Gordon only then became aware of the thick layer of sweat on his forehead. He wiped it off and closed his eyes, giving himself a moment.

Good God, that was fast.

"Well," Alyx breathed, checking her gun before slipping it away. "That was… fast."

He nodded, an exhausted laugh escaping him. "Thanks for… all that."

"You too," she said, smiling before her eyes caught on something on the floor behind him. "You going to get that?"

Following her gaze, he saw the crowbar protruding out of the belly of the soldier.

He nodded and yanked it out.

Not wasting anymore time, Alyx led the way as Gordon followed along, checking for anyone following. Like clockwork.

They ended up in a small booth of a room overlooking a larger chamber. A massive door awaited them.

"Great, another security station. All right Mossman, where are you…?"

Alyx got to work on the terminal.

"Combine portal?" he guessed, checking the chamber over for any threats while Alyx worked.

"Could be… ah! Found her," she said, glaring up at footage of a rather calm Mossman working away in her lab.

A large door was behind her, although it looked quite different from the one Gordon was looking at through the window. Alyx tapped away at the keyboard, and red lights began to flash in Mossman's lab. Alarmed, she started doing something or other at her computer.

Alyx grinned triumphantly. "Ha! Got you now!"

She checked the other cameras. The image changed. More soldiers, coming up the corridor they had just painted red.

"Uh-oh."

Working with renewed vigour, she quickly got the huge door down below to open. Sections of the metal door slowly slid into the ceiling like an avalanche in reverse, metal creaking and roaring like an animal.

"Well," Alyx smirked, "come on, Gordon. We don't want to keep her waiting."

They moved quickly down the stairs and into the chamber, sprinting with newfound energy into the room beyond.

Gordon could see soldiers storming down the stairs as the door came slamming down in front of him.

"Let me seal this door," Alyx said quietly, blasting the control panel beside the door. She looked to him, trepidation lining her face. "No turning back now."

They moved down to a small window beside a familiar looking door; the one that had been behind Mossman. Peering inside, Alyx smiled.

"There she is." She continued staring at Mossman as she spoke. "Let me do the talking, Gordon. We may need her to get out of here."

He just nodded dismissively. He didn't have the history with Mossman that Alyx did and had no desire to interfere with that. And on top of that, quite frankly, the teleportation technology they talked about was above his head at this point. Not that it would always be that way, but right now everyone seemed to need him more as a clumsy, accidental killing machine than a clumsy, accidental scientist.

Mossman's frightened, echoing voice brought him back to reality. "Hello? Oh, thank God someone…" Her words predictably died in her throat when she got to the window. "Alyx? Gordon! How did you get in here?"

"Save it," Alyx spat, "we know all about you and Breen."

"What?"

Gordon, who up to this point had been happy to act as lookout, couldn't help the scowl that he directed at Mossman. The innocence she put into the performance… it didn't bring out nice feelings in him.

Alyx jabbed a deserving finger at Mossman. "You've been a spy for the Combine the whole time."

The older woman seemed genuinely confused by what Alyx was saying, which really only made it worse for her. "What? What are you talking about?"

A loud metallic bang thundered through the chamber, and everyone looked to the door. Gordon could hear Combine radios from the other side.

"Inside, please," Gordon urged over his shoulder.

"Damn it," Alyx muttered. "Move back Mossman, we're coming in."

With a zap of her lock pick, the door slid up. They moved in quickly, Gordon backing in with rifle pointed at the main door. Alyx blasted the control panel on the other side, locking the door.

Then she stalked over to Mossman, who wisely backed up, her hands up in a manner she probably hoped would be calming.

"Alyx, whatever you may think, I assure you I've worked to protect your father."

Alyx brought back her hand, looking for all the world like she was going to punch Mossman's lights out, but then settled for just pointing a finger in her face.

"Shut up, and be glad you're still some use to us!" Looking unsatisfied with just shouting at Mossman, Alyx moved to the massive computer that took up the wall and started working. "We're going to reconfigure this teleport and get the hell out of here."

"You see?" the older woman pleaded, moving up beside her. "We're working to the same end. I've already reprogrammed the modulator to emulate a Xen relay!"

Alyx shot her a disgusted glare. "That's my father's work you stole."

"It's my work too!" Mossman cried, looking to Gordon for some kind of approval. He didn't give any.

Frustrated, she went back to Alyx, who was still working diligently on the computer. "And I had to prove to Dr Breen that your father would be the most valuable member of any research effort going forward from here-"

Alyx slammed her hand down onto the computer before spitting, "_Enough_ of your bullshit!"

Gordon gave Mossman a warning look. "I think you should move back."

"What a good idea," Alyx agreed, hitting Mossman with rage-filled glare. Slowly, the doctor moved back, eventually backing up so she was stood next to Gordon. He watched her carefully.

An image of the pods from earlier came up on the screen. She glanced back at him. "Look Gordon, there's my Dad, I'm going to bring him in."

A smile crept onto Mossman's face, her hand going to her chest. "You found Eli?"

"No thanks to you," Alyx tossed back. "Just enter the coordinates for Dr Kleiner's lab and let's get moving."

Shaking her head, Mossman said, "But we need access to the teleport platform, and we're locked out."

"I'll take care of that," Alyx dismissed, quickly moving to the door and blasting the keypad next to it with the lock pick. It opened without complaint.

Gordon nudged Mossman with his elbow. "After you."

Unreadable, Mossman did as she was told and walked through the doorway with head bowed, trying to ignore Alyx's piercing stare as she went.

Alyx still didn't move from the doorway as Gordon passed, and he stopped. Hesitantly, he put a hand on her arm.

"Let's get going," he urged as gently as he could.

Her head moved up, and their eyes met. And just for a few seconds, Gordon saw a very scared little girl. But then she blinked and it was gone.

"Right. Let's go."

They moved through into the chamber, and Alyx zapped the door lock, sealing it behind them. They had to walk through a smaller storage area before getting into the main chamber. Inside were three turrets, tucked away in their alcoves. Gordon noted them for later.

But his attention was quickly grabbed by the main teleport chamber. A long tunnel of complicated machinery lay beneath them, visible through clean blue glass that led all the way to a raised platform at the other end of the room. There were two control panels on either side of the platform.

And at the far end was a teleport pad just like the one in Dr Kleiner's lab, except this one looked like it would raise you up several stories instead of several feet. Far above his head and perpendicular to where the teleport pad would eventually rise to was a piece of equipment very similar to Dr Kleiner's.

As a scientist, this was magnificent. Wonderful. Fascinating. He knelt down and pressed a gloved hand to the blue glass, trying to get a better look at the equipment. It looked like they used lenses to amplify the teleportation energy and redirect it into a higher focus beam that…

He blinked the scientist thoughts away. They weren't needed right now, Alyx had that handled.

Instead, he took a more tactical view. There were two entrances on the left-hand side of the room, both at the end of long corridors and closed at the moment. Framing the corridors were glass windows that seemed to be more for decoration than anything else. A third exit was visible, tucked away in the corner of the room behind the teleport control platform. Three entrances, three turrets.

"Oh… my God," Alyx gasped. "And you've been _working _with this thing? For how long?"

She slowly moved to the platform, eyes on the teleport pad as she went. Gordon went with her, continually keeping one eye on Mossman.

Mossman shook her head, a little aghast. "Never, until now. I did have a fairly good idea of what to expect-"

"I'll bet you did," Alyx shot at her. Calming down, she looked back to the pad. "It looks like it's waiting for us," she noted, a certain scientist-like curiosity about her.

"The Combine use a peculiar pulse-forming network with a very long rise-time," Mossman rattled off, sounding like nothing was amiss here. "It takes quite a while to recharge."

Slowly nodding, Alyx turned around. "So you've warmed it up for us. Good." Her eyes flitted to something above Gordon's head. "And just in time."

He turned and saw one of the Combine pods hanging from a track above their head. Strange how he hadn't noticed that before. Scientific curiosity overrides everything else, he supposed.

Alyx rushed up and stood beside him as the pod opened, revealing the slightly drowsy looking Eli inside.

Sounding a little desperate, Alyx shouted up to him. "Dad, down here! Sorry that took so long, I hope it wasn't too bad for you."

He smiled warmly, and Gordon's heart ached a little. Suddenly he wasn't looking forward to the truth getting out. "Don't worry about me, sweetheart."

Gentle eyes flitted up to Mossman, and his smile grew. Gordon exchanged a glance with Alyx as Eli spoke.

"Judith! I see they set you free!"

"Not exactly…" Alyx commented, moving to a control panel.

Mossman moved over to him, hands clasped together nervously. "Eli! I was so worried about you-"

"The coordinates, Doctor Mossman," Alyx cut in, eyes on the controls.

The metal sheet that Eli was strapped to separated from the pod, and he started moving across a separate rail to the teleport pad as he spoke. "So, this is the Combine portal. It's smaller than I imagined."

He was slowly turned around as he slid over until eventually he was facing outwards, watching everything with a clueless scientific curiosity. Gordon walked over to Eli, glancing at Mossman as she worked on a different terminal.

"How are you doing?"

Eli gave him his full attention and smiled. "Fine, fine." His eyes moved to Alyx. "You kept her safe."

"Well, she did most of that."

"I don't doubt it," he laughed, though it didn't last long. "But thank you, Gordon."

Alyx's sharp tones interrupted. "Hurry up, Mossman. Dr Kleiner!"

"_Yes, Alyx," _Kleiner said, tinny voice ringing out from a speaker on the panel Alyx was working on. Gordon had never been happier to hear that man's voice. "_Where are you?"_

"We're in Nova Prospekt, and we're running the Xen emulation for the first time. Are you ready for us?"

"_Ready, willing, and fully enabled!"_

"Good," Alyx said, nodding and looking like she was working on three things at once. All business. "We'll send my Dad through first. He's in position for-"

Sudden alarms and the flash of red lights made everyone freeze for a moment.

After one last glance at Eli, Gordon ran over to stand beside Alyx, who was urgently looking over the controls. "What's that?"

"What's-" he stopped when he noticed Mossman making a move for the teleport pad. Gordon started after her.

"Security protocol," an oblivious Alyx murmured, though more to herself. "Hold on, gotta bring this back down."

Mossman reached the pad before Gordon, and he instinctually brought his pulse rifle up to bear. A force field buzzed into existence between them, catching the muzzle of the gun. Eli just watched on in horror. Gordon still held the gun steady.

Alyx caught on and raced over. "No, stop! What are you doing?"

With a sadness in her eyes that made Gordon falter for a moment, Mossman looked to Alyx. "I'm sorry, Alyx. It's the only way."

"No…" Alyx had a desperation in her voice he had never heard before as she slammed a fist against the force field. "Dad!"

"What's going on, Alyx?" Eli looked to Mossman. "Judith! What's happening?"

As Alyx raced back to the terminal, Gordon still held the rifle, force-field making it quiver slightly.

"All right, let me think. Think, Alyx, think!"

Gordon looked Mossman in the eyes. That sadness was still there, something that was almost begging him to pull the trigger. Something that also said she felt remorse for what she was doing. That she was human.

And humans make mistakes.

Gordon had killed a lot of people over the past few days, and only one of those had been premeditated. And that one had concerned the survival of the human race.

Mossman had betrayed them, was taking Eli away again. But killing her wouldn't help. And Eli didn't need to see one of the few people he cared about murdering another in front of him. Gordon wouldn't… _couldn't_ do that to him.

He brought the rifle back, and let it drop to his side.

The look in Mossman's eyes wasn't quite relief. It was almost disappointment. The platform rose up, Eli looking desperately to Alyx as she worked at the console with terrible urgency.

But then there was a flash, and they were gone. Alyx looked up to where the now empty teleport pad stood, and exchanged a wild glance with Gordon before returning to the terminal.

"Dr Kleiner, you have to stop them!"

"_Stop who, my dear?"_

"Oh my God. What coordinates are these?" She slammed her fists onto the controls. "Where the hell did she take him?!"

One of the locked doors clanged loudly. Then another.

Alyx's head whipped up. "No…"

The final door clanged, and seemed to knock the young Vance out of her funk.

"Cover me Gordon, I've gotta reset the portal."

She tapped diligently at the controls.

"Gordon, use the turrets."

He did as he was told, racing over and setting them up at the respective three entrances.

As he went, he noticed Alyx peering over at the apparatus underneath the glass beneath his feet. "Okay, it's resetting."

He walked over and looked down after setting up the last turret. There were four groups of five lenses, each of those rotating in an attempt to reach the correct calibration. Blue-green energy flickered at the far end of the equipment, practically bursting to get through. Only once the energy was transferred through all the different lenses would it be ready to power the teleporter.

And it was going slowly.

Another clang, and Alyx had her gun out and at the ready. Gordon positioned himself so he could reach any one of the turrets quickly if he needed to.

"They're coming, Gordon."

There were three more thunderous bangs before the doors came crashing down off their hinges. The turrets squealed and opened fire. Gordon glanced over his shoulder at Alyx, who was looking at something on the control panel.

He hoped she at least got out of here. He hated the idea of her dying in this place.

Or dying, period.

The turrets were doing their jobs for the moment; the Combine couldn't get far enough forward to take a shot at either of them. That didn't stop Gordon's heart from pounding in his ears.

He looked down through the blue glass. The first set of four lenses was aligned. He could see the energy pulsing through it far more cleanly now.

A grenade rolled to a stop beside the turret closest to Gordon. By the time he had reached the for the Gravity Gun and realised he was too far away to reach it, the grenade exploded, sending the turret hurtling through the air, frantic bullets firing off in every direction.

He rushed to the window at the corner of the corridor's entrance, and whirled around, taking the three soldiers coming up by surprise. Two were taken down in the initial spray, while the third managed to scramble his way back down to the other end of the corridor, taking cover behind the wall.

"Looks like it's about halfway!" Alyx announced, suddenly right behind him. Gordon didn't take the risk of checking.

Eyes on the corridor entrance, he shouted over his shoulder. "Cover me while I go for the turret."

She may have nodded, Gordon didn't know. He just launched himself across the corridor. The comforting sound of Alyx's pistol sparked behind him as he skid to a halt beside the turret, bringing it back upright.

A green light flashed positively, and the turret started up again. Gordon ran back to the control platform with Alyx. They stood side by side, wary eyes flitting to every entrance as the turrets did their work. The teleporter hummed louder beneath them.

"Is this what it was like?" Alyx asked, pulling out the clip on her handgun and checking it over.

Not knowing what he was doing, Gordon didn't bother to check his rifle. "What do you mean?"

"Black Mesa. Was it like this?"

Another grenade rolled in from the same entrance. This time, however, it didn't get far enough for the explosion to make much of a difference. The turret just wobbled a little.

He shook his head. "No."

"No?"

"No."

"How is it different?"

Another grenade rolled to a stop right beneath the turret.

"In Black Mesa, it was just me."

The grenade exploded, tossing the turret right at them. They dove for the ground, Gordon putting an unintentional hand on Alyx's shoulder. Both of them close to the ground, their faces inches apart, they froze for just a moment before launching themselves back to their feet and taking cover behind the control panels.

"Almost there…"

Gordon glanced down. Three of the sets were done, and the first lens of the fourth was locked.

The soldiers poured in, and they opened fire. Two of them managed to reach the small security section where the turrets had been housed. Gordon concentrated on them while Alyx took the corridor entrance. After the second volley of fire, his pulse rifle ran on empty, and he tossed it away angrily.

Alyx reloaded another clip. "God, this is taking forever!"

Jaw set, Gordon pulled out the crowbar and vaulted over the guardrail that ran around the platform, heading for the security station. The soldiers, concentrating on the other entrance, were rather surprised to see Gordon Freeman flailing a crowbar around wildly. Both were down in seconds, and Gordon snatched up a pulse rifle.

Taking up a position in the security station, he waved the crowbar around to show Alyx he was okay before opening fire on the soldiers coming down the corridor.

"Just a couple more seconds…"

Gordon ducked back and looked through the other entrance of the security station. Alyx slammed in another clip, the look on her face indicating that maybe it was her last.

When he returned to the other entrance, he spotted someone coming down the corridor. It was Victor, walking like a businessman in a hurry. He grabbed soldiers in his path, tossing them over his shoulder and crushing them into the walls as he went.

"It's done, thank God!" Alyx announced. "Let's get the hell out of here!"

The other soldiers had cleared out to make way for their secret weapon. Gordon picked up the other pulse rifle and stepped out into the open, wanting Victor distracted from Alyx. She was oblivious, working at the control panel again.

"These readings are scaring me!"

Gordon opened fire with both rifles as Victor leapt the rest of the distance. He ducked as the soldier rocketed over him, rolling on the floor and getting to his feet again as though nothing had happened.

He heard Alyx talking as he backed up from the oncoming Victor. "Okay, doc, we're locked on."

Kleiner's pleased voice echoed over from the intercom. _"I await your arrival with great anticipation."_

Rifles pointed at Victor's chest, he opened fire. Victor didn't even bother to move; he just kept walking as the bullets tore into his already tattered body armour. When he reached Gordon, he grabbed both rifles and slammed a boot into the scientist's chest, sending him hurtling back and into the corner of the corridor's entrance.

"Come on, Gordon! Get in!"

Alyx was stood on the pad. Only then did she notice what was going on.

"Gordon!"

Eyes on Victor, Gordon heaved himself to his feet and pulled out the crowbar. His HEV suit was beeping at him; the numbers were flickering in front of his eyes, like static. Running out of power.

So now he was just a normal scientist taking on whatever the hell Victor was. He ducked a high powered fist that sent chunks of cement flying. He couldn't avoid the second fist, this one hitting him in the belly. Victor grabbed him by the collar of the HEV suit and tossed him across the room and into the wall opposite. The impact created a miniature crater in the wall, bits of dust and cement raining down on him.

He struggled to his feet, and Victor snatched him by the neck. Gordon held the crowbar tight, ready to stab it through Victor's neck.

And then Alyx was on Victor's back, stuffing something into the chest of his body armour before leaping off again, shooting a few holes in his head with her handgun. Though Gordon wasn't sure they hurt him, they were enough to distract Victor so that his grip loosened.

Gordon slipped away, and Alyx rushed him over to the teleport pad. Looking over his shoulder, Gordon saw Victor explode. He smiled.

"Grenade?" he said, surprised at how hoarse his voice was.

She just smiled and bundled him onto the teleport pad. Alyx ran back to the control panel and hit one final control before rushing onto the pad with him. Gordon was finding it difficult to stand, and found himself forced to put a hand on Alyx's shoulder for support. He still had the strength to slip the crowbar away, though. Priorities.

"Hold on!"

The pad started to rise. Gordon couldn't make out what had happened to Victor; between the cloud of smoke around him and the flashing blue coming from the teleport energy around him, it was inscrutable.

What he could see were more soldier pouring out of the corridor, including some in uniforms he had never seen before. In the same basic style as Victor but all white and with a single red eye. Hefting up pulse rifles, they fired off the same orb of energy Victor had shot at him at St Olga's, heading straight for them.

He heard Alyx say 'oh shit' before light flashed around them, blinding him.

* * *

The last time he had teleported, he had seen so many different places. A beach, a monster under the water, Dr Breen…

This time, there was nothing. Just a flash, and then he was suddenly somewhere else. Somewhere darker. He had to blink to clear his vision. Judging from the sound of equipment powering down, though, he guessed they were back… well, he supposed 'home' was the closest description.

Alyx, a little breathless, spoke first. "My God… we made it."

She stepped off, and Gordon stumbled out after her, not feeling much better. He rested back against the frame of the teleporter, closing his eyes and just concentrating on his breathing.

"You okay?"

Gordon nodded and waved her off.

Her lips a thin line, Alyx nodded anyway and walked to the wall.

"But where's Dr Kleiner?" she murmured, moving to the right hand side of the wall that usually would slide aside. Alyx slammed an unsubtle fist against it. "Dr Kleiner, let us out!"

Nothing. Hands resting on his knees now, Gordon looked up with a worried frown, matching the look Alyx was giving him.

"Where-"

The wall slowly slid open, and the muzzle of a shotgun poked through. Alyx backed up a little, and Gordon's hand went to his crowbar.

Kleiner's quivering voice came from the other side of the wall, and Gordon relaxed. "Alyx?"

His head poked into the room, along with the pet headcrab at his feet. "Gordon? My God, how did you get here? And when?"

Gordon exchanged yet another frown with Alyx. He pushed himself away from the teleporter, feeling a little better. Even with next to no power, the HEV suit was still managing to send enough stimulants and painkillers around his body to keep him going.

Alyx, meanwhile, was following Kleiner into the lab, concerned. "What's wrong?"

"My dear, I…" Kleiner's voice cracked as Gordon moved around the corner, and he saw the older scientist adjusting his glasses nervously. "…I had given up hope of ever seeing you again."

"I was afraid we might not make it either," Alyx agreed. "I think the teleport blew just as we were 'porting out."

An emphatic nod was the reply. "Indeed it did," Kleiner announced, "and the repercussions were felt far and wide, but… that was over a week ago."

Gordon tilted his head, feeling like he hadn't heard properly. "Sorry, what?"

Alyx spoke at the same time. "What do you mean? Gordon and I were just there a minute ago."

Everyone was silent as the implications of what was being said were taken in. Alyx looked frightened. Kleiner looked, well…

"Fascinating… we seem to have developed a very slow teleport." He moved off to his desk, head full of equations and energy differentials. "This suggests an entirely new line of investigation."

Looking at Gordon, Alyx's voice was barely a whisper. "A week…"

She looked like she was having a difficult time comprehending it. Gordon, however, wasn't. Because he had been through something similar, just on a far grander scale. A week in just a second… was it really that more difficult to adjust the process so that it lasted for two decades instead? Did this mean that He had access to teleport technology? From where?

Alyx, meanwhile, was beside Dr Kleiner. "…then what did we miss?"

"A great deal, my dear," he said, sounding inspired. "The blow you struck at Nova Prospekt was taken as a signal to begin the uprising." He threw an enthusiastic finger into the air to emphasise the point.

She waved her hand around, rushed. "But what about my father?"

The finger dropped, and Dr Kleiner sighed. "Well… _that_ is the most troubling. According to the Vortigaunts, he is a prisoner in the Citadel."

A moment of despair was all that appeared before Alyx was back to business. "We've got to get my father out."

"Barney has been leading a push with that very aim in mind," Kleiner explained, moving over to the door that had once held Gordon's HEV suit. He tapped away on the keypad beside it, smiling. "And another of your friends arrived several days ago."

The metal door rolled up into the ceiling, revealing a small red eye that Gordon hadn't seen for some time.

Alyx grinned joyfully. "Dog, you made it! Good boy!"

As soon as he saw Alyx, Dog launched out of the storage room, enveloping Alyx in a monstrous hug that made her laugh in a way that Gordon couldn't help but smile at.

"So there, you see?" Kleiner soothed, adjusting his glasses again. "It's not all hopeless."

Released from Dog's hug, Alyx sidled underneath his arm, her previous joviality tempered a little. "I wish I shared your optimism, doctor."

The television screen beside Dr Kleiner burst to life, the only one of the selection that seemed to be working. Barney's scruffy visage filtered in and out of the static. Behind him, Gordon could see the Citadel towering in the distance, along with some flames that looked disturbingly close.

"_Doc, come in, are you there? Hey, doc, are you there?"_

Muscles stiff, Gordon limped over, and Dog once again made him smile by offering him a big hand for support. He smiled and patted the robot's head.

"Good to see you," he said quietly, and Dog made a grunting noise he assumed was reciprocal.

Kleiner had moved to the screen with Alyx. "Yes, Barney, and I'm no longer alone. Alyx and Gordon have just arrived."

The ex-security guard grinned, and for a moment, all was right with the world. _"Well man, that's good news. I'd almost given you guys up for lost."_ He paused to glance at something off-screen._ "We're planning to set up a staging area for attacking the Citadel."_

Alyx nodded and moved forward, resting on the table. "Gordon and Dog can head your way. I want to get Dr Kleiner somewhere safer, than I'll meet up with you."

Barney shrugged. _"I'll take all the help I can get."_

Something up above grabbed his attention, and he scowled._ "Aw, crap, INCOMING!"_

He ducked, and the entire screen shook. Gordon could feel Alyx glancing at him, but he was just concentrating on the screen. He _really _didn't want that to be the last time he saw Barney.

As though answering his thoughts, Barney popped back up, clapped some dust out of his hair and shook his head. He waved an impatient hand at them. _"Go on, get going!"_

Then he dove off-screen, and the signal cut out.

Everyone was silent for a moment. Alyx broke it when she turned to him, taking a big breath before she spoke.

"Okay, Gordon, you heard him-"

Gordon put up a hand, and Alyx stopped.

"Sorry, first. Dr Kleiner?"

"Hm? Yes?"

"Do have somewhere I can recharge?"

"Certainly, just use the-"

He brought up the elbow that had been used for charging days ago.

Kleiner stared at it for a moment. "Ah." He shook it off, however, and moved to the tank of orange… stuff, talking as he went and Gordon hobbling after him. "No matter, I can charge you direct."

He rummaged around beside the tank before coming up with another thick power cable like the one Eli has used at Black Mesa East. Kleiner struggled to lift it, and Dog helped him place it on the Lambda symbol on Gordon's chest. The HEV suit beeped and groaned customarily, and Gordon blew out a grateful breath.

"There's not much in this lab anymore," Kleiner said, sadly looking around, "but it should get you to half-power, I should think."

Gordon shrugged. "I'm sure I'll make do."

He looked over at Alyx, who was smiling.

"What?"

She shook her head. "Nothing."

The charging finished, and he looked at his stats. Kleiner watched him hopefully, and Gordon smiled.

"Perfect." Gordon removed the cable and handed it back to Kleiner, then putting a hand on his arm. "See you soon."

Kleiner adjusted his glasses and smiled. "Where you are concerned, Gordon, perhaps a little late, hm? But I'm sure I will see you."

They laughed a little, and Alyx cleared her throat.

Gordon looked to her, nodding goodbye to Kleiner.

"You'd better get going. I'll catch up with you as soon as I get Dr Kleiner settled."

"Just a minute," the scientist announced quickly. "I can't leave without Lamarr."

Alyx seemed to visibly deflate, eyes rolling into her head. "Oh, no…"

"Now where did she get to?" And with that, he was off, stalking into the mess of crates shoved into the corners of the lab.

Shaking her head but still smiling, Alyx nodded to the metal door at the far end of the room. "Go on, Gordon, I'll take care of this."

They walked together to the door, and Alyx leaned closer and spoke quietly so as not to let Dr Kleiner overhear.

"Your suit isn't even at half power, is it?"

"Not even close," he sighed.

Alyx burst out laughing, but managed to cover it as a cough as they approached the door. She punched a code into the keypad beside the metal door, and it opened with a loud creak.

"You need my gun?"

He shook his head gently. "I'll find one."

She smiled and nodded. "Right." Trying to avoid looking at him for some reason, Alyx looked into the corridor through the doorway and down to the floor again, tucking some hair behind her ear absent-mindedly.

Her eyes gradually travelled back up to his. "Gordon… take care of yourself out there."

Gordon just nodded, reluctant to leave. "You too."

There was silence between them.

"Oh, dear." A crate came crashing to the ground near Dr Kleiner, and Alyx rolled her eyes.

"Dr Kleiner, there's _really _no time," she urged, giving one last smile to Gordon before heading off after the scientist.

Gordon watched her go, and noticed that Dog was watching him. For a robot with the mind of an attack dog, he could pull off a 'nudge, nudge, wink, wink,' look rather well.

"Don't know what you're talking about," he muttered, heading out into the corridor.

It was strange being here after so many days, this time heading in the other direction. He couldn't even remember which direction he was supposed to be going. Kleiner and Alyx argued in the lab as he searched for a doorway or something that would serve as a reminder.

"Now, now, she's around here someplace."

"We'll find you another pet headcrab, there are plenty to go around!"

"There's only one Heddy!"

Finally, Dog let out a quiet 'woof' noise and nodded to an open gate leading into an elevator shaft. Peering down, Gordon saw that it was just a few feet down to ground floor. He shrugged and leapt down, kicking up a little dust from the collection of rocks that had collected down there.

He stepped out into the remains of a large underground car park. At least, it _would _have been underground if an epic hole wasn't blasted in the top right corner, just above the ramp leading out into the city.

Overturned, skeletal cars littered the place, collapsed ceilings and fires prompting Gordon into leaving sharp-ish. Once he had moved a few steps into the area, Dog landed with a thunderous crash in the elevator shaft behind him, sending a massive cloud of dust billowing out as he rolled forward and onto his feet.

Dog looked to him faithfully, gorilla hands planted on the ground. Gordon looked out to the changed City 17.

Time to join the revolution.

* * *

(A/N: Well, this certainly took it's time, didn't it? Apologies, everyone. Just be assured that I am still working on this story - this close to the end, it would be a real waste to give up on it now, wouldn't it? I'd also like to give the heads-up that due to work issues (I'm travelling a lot at the moment) updates will be a bit more scarce until summer. Although I'm hoping to have 'Anti-Citizen One' up before then.

Anyway, your thoughts? Criticisms? Review!

_Next Chapter: Anti-Citizen One_)


	12. Anticitizen One

Disclaimer: I don't own _Half-Life._

_**Welcome to City 17 **_

_**Chapter Twelve: Anticitizen One**  
_

Machinegun fire rang through the air. Fires blazed and crackled. Combine sirens blared from somewhere within the city, and that damned woman wouldn't shut up about insurgents and sectors.

City 17 was falling apart at the seams, and Gordon felt all the better for it. Dog's joints banged and hissed as he moved up beside Gordon, waiting for his next move.

Gordon nodded. "Let's go."

He led the way, walking to the ramp that led up to the city. Sunlight seeped in through the clouds as he exited the old car park, coming up through an alleyway between a building on the left and some buzzing electricity generators on the right. At the end he could make out an empty street.

His gaze travelling to the building beside him, and he recognised the same ledge he had clung to when he first arrived in City 17, running from the Combine for all he was worth. Good times.

A Combine radio bleeped, and a gunshot rang through the air, hitting the wall above his head. Gordon ducked down and ran back to a dilapidated old car, leaping over and taking cover behind it.

Dog had other plans, letting out a roar and charging out into the street without much caution for the bullets being flung at him. Looking through the empty windows of the car, he saw Dog flinging soldiers left and right, crunching them literally _into _walls and pasting them into the ground.

From out of nowhere, a Combine van slammed into Dog, taking him out of Gordon's sight. The remaining soldiers looked to each other in relief before nodding in Gordon's general direction. They opened fire again, and Gordon ducked down. Not much he could do from here. Nothing to throw at them with the Gravity Gun, and nothing the crowbar could do. He was beginning to wish he had taken Alyx's gun.

But then Dog's heavenly roar came to him again, and he couldn't help but watch as the van came tumbling back into view, Dog standing atop it like a skateboard. Metal feet clamped onto it like a vice, Dog threw himself forward, rolling over with the van and throwing it at the last few soldiers and smashing them all into the building behind them.

Sitting on his rear like a confused baby, Dog shook his head frantically before leaping to his feet and checking for Gordon.

Smiling in a manner only a killer robot dog could elicit, Gordon heaved himself to his feet and jogged out into the open to greet his companion. He tried to think of something to say.

"Good dog."

It was the best he could manage.

Looking to the end of the street, he saw that one end was a dead end, and the other was blocked by what looked like a Combine barricade, all shiny black metals and force-fields.

He looked up at Dog and pointed to the gate. "That way?"

Happily nodding his agreement, Dog hurled himself to the other end of the street, Gordon having to sprint just to keep up with him. There were no obvious seams or breaks in the black metal wall to Gordon, but lo and behold, Dog either found them or made them, wedging his fingers into the barricade effortlessly. Without much pause, Dog yanked the two doors aside, leaving a gap beneath his arm for Gordon to climb through.

The scientist went through, coming out in front of one of those titanic masher walls he had seen in Nova Prospekt. It didn't seem to be eating much of anything at the moment, but Gordon didn't fancy waiting around for it to crush him alive.

An entrance into a building on his left seemed to be the best bet, and Gordon looked over his shoulder to inform Dog.

And that's when a Combine troop transport creature landed just behind the metal beast. Dog's head perked up when he heard them, and he looked over his shoulder at the new arrival before turning completely, letting the doors slam shut. Gordon rushed to the doors, slamming his hands against them.

"Dog. Dog!"

Gunfire erupted, quickly followed by a Combine flat line. More grunts and radio squeals followed, the occasional soldier tumbling up through the air. Finally, the troop transport took off, only for Dog to leap out of nowhere and land on its nose. The creature moaned beneath the violent blows the robot was dealing out, tossing and turning this way and that as it tried to gain some altitude. Gordon ducked as the creature collided with a wall and then with a lamppost, sending it sparking and tumbling over.

Finally, it managed to hover over and above the masher wall, taking a still attacking Dog with it.

Gordon sighed. Looks it was just him, then. Oh, well. At least he knew he didn't have to worry about Dog.

The wall came to life behind him, heavy metal spikes lifting with an almighty groan. Gordon made a quick beeline for the open doorway of the building, a cloud of dust following him in as the wall crashed into the ground. The building was dark, but there was light coming from a corridor just around the corner.

Following it around, Gordon found himself coming out in the courtyard with the playground he had seen when he first arrived. Retracing his steps. It was something he hadn't found himself doing over the past few days. It was always forging ahead, never looking back. And now he had to deal with _consequences _to his actions. _That _was definitely new to him.

Gunfire rang out from just down the path, and Gordon ducked his head. Looking to their source, he saw two rebels firing in short bursts at something above him. He craned his head up and saw two ball shaped metal objects floating overhead, making the same low bleeps and hums that the floating cameras had. Armoured cameras, maybe?

They both exploded loudly, raining sparks over him. Satisfied it was over, Gordon started walking. The rebels both reloaded, the one on the left double glancing as he spotted his approach. After excitedly tapping his partner on the shoulder, he rushed over.

"Doctor Freeman, I'm coming with you," he gasped, amazed eyes barely peeking out from beneath his cap. Gordon winced at the awestruck tone in his voice, and wasn't sure if he hid it well or not.

His friend, a man about as tall as Gordon and with short, patchy black hair, just chuckled.

"Well, Gordon Freeman. And about time, too."

He gave Gordon a good slap on the arm, and he tried to smile.

"I, uh… sorry I'm late. I was teleporting and it went slower than usual, so…"

Blank stares met his explanation. He sighed.

"…I've been busy."

"Well, doesn't matter," the man in the cap exclaimed, happier than anyone in his situation had any right to be. "With you here Doctor Freeman, we can finally make some headway! Awesome!"

This time it was Gordon's turn for a blank stare. He blinked it away and shook his head. "Uh, right, so… lead the way, I suppose."

They both nodded, the man in the cap shooting off far faster than his companion. Gordon jogged alongside the rebel.

"What's his name?"

"That's Simon. I'm Greg."

Gordon cocked a curious eyebrow. "No surnames?"

"This ain't no military operation, doc. You want that, travel west. As far as the Combine's concerned, we're just terrorists."

He nodded. "Fair enough."

They rounded a corner and came out at the same courtyard Gordon had seen when he first arrived. And, as expected, Dr Breen blared out at the populace from the screen atop the massive spire that acted as a centrepiece for the courtyard. Although the transmission wasn't exactly going out uninterrupted, static garbling every other word. Three rebels beneath the monitor tugged in group efforts on ropes attached to the screen, their final yank cutting off the picture completely and bringing it crashing down.

As they ran out of the way, they laughed and whooped like teenagers at a party, high-fives abound.

Then one of them spotted Gordon's approach. He tried to hide his sigh as they all rushed him, glowing smiles and adoring eyes everywhere.

A black man with the beginnings of a beard shook his head. "Gordon Freeman? We heard you survived, but I couldn't believe it! That was one hell of an explosion you caused."

One of the two women in their group nodded her agreement. "Yeah. Nova Prospekt, gone, just like that!"

Gordon scratched his beard. "Uh… really, the whole thing?"

"Ha!" Simons barked, punching Gordon on the arm playfully. "Will you listen to this guy? Modesty doesn't suit you, man! Show some pride in your work! You're like… 'the guy', y'know?"

That statement met a blank stare from Gordon. "…yes, listen, I don't have a gun. Does anyone have a spare?"

Everyone shook their heads.

"…I'm trying to get to the staging area that Barney's setting up. Which way do I go?"

"Hey, you ain't going anywhere without me!" Simon cried, putting his hand out into the middle of the group.

"I'm Simon."

The others stared at it before putting their hands in.

The black man put his hand in. "David, uh… Dave. Call me Dave."

One of the girls, short brown hair spiking all over the place, put her hand in next. "Cara. I'm a medic," she said proudly, tapping the red cross patch stitched onto her sleeve.

The other girl, almost as tall as Gordon with blond hair poking out from underneath her woolly cap, announced, "Tess."

Greg looked reluctant, and settled for tapping the collected hands with his finger before muttering his name.

Gordon wished he had someone there to look to despairingly. He was talking to the Power Rangers. A part of him wished he would meet someone who _hated_ the name Gordon Freeman, just for a change of pace. He went to put his hand in, when everyone burst out laughing, their hands dropping away.

"Geez, doc, no need for you to put your hand in," Cara said. "Everyone knows who you are."

He nodded a little irritably. "So," he said steadily, "which way to the staging area?"

"Through that gate," Greg said immediately, sounding relieved to be back on subject.

"Right. Good. Thank you." He set off, and, like echoes, the footsteps of the others followed close behind.

An alleyway between two tall buildings had been blocked off by a metal gate, a few feet taller than Gordon or anyone else in the group. And there didn't seem to be any kind of locking mechanism.

"Is there a way through?"

"Sure," Greg said, indicating for everyone to stand back. They did so, Gordon included, and the rebel blasted at the door in a short burst, sparks flying from the bullets.

There was silence, and just when Gordon was about to ask if that was it, the gate opened with a mechanical groan, CP radios bleeping from the other side.

"CPs!" someone in the group cried out, all of them scattering for cover.

Gordon moved to the wall just beside the now open gate, slipping the crowbar out as he went. He needn't have bothered. Only two CPs emerged, both of them mowed down instantly by the five rebels hidden around the courtyard. He put the crowbar away.

Simon was by him in an instant, nodding to the flatlining CPs. "There are some guns for ya, Dr Freeman."

Two handguns, to be precise. He would have preferred something bigger, but beggars couldn't be choosers during a city-wide revolution. Gordon snatched up the weapons and the relevant holsters, strapping them around him somewhat haphazardly. At least he had space for ammunition now. He indicated for Simon to lead the way, who did so with a glee that worried Gordon. There hadn't been many people he had met either here or in Black Mesa who had actually _enjoyed _what was going on. Those that had… well, they didn't exactly end up being shining examples of sanity.

An explosion went off in the distance, and something very alien and very big took objection.

They rounded a corner, and Gordon bumped into the back of Simon when he stopped abruptly. The others similarly bumped into him, causing a domino effect that made Gordon chafe a little. Everyone muttered apologies while Gordon looked around. The path they were on overlooked a grassy area below them on the left. Black metal circles were clamped to the floor by three pointed claws, a red light shining from the middle. They were _everywhere._

The path was fenced off, going around them and blocking off the way ahead. Another rebel stood on the path behind the fence. He was at the mouth of another corridor, presumably the way forward.

"Watch out for the Hoppers, they're everywhere!"

Hoppers. That would be the black things. A hole in the path before them pointed the way forward, leading down into the grassy area where the Hoppers had been set up. And, at the other end, a set of stairs led up to the path that would take them to the rebel on the other side. Putting the guns away, Gordon reached for the Gravity Gun.

"Careful of the Hoppers, Dr Freeman," Cara volunteered.

Gordon nodded, indicating that he had heard the first warning. "Okay, thanks."

"But don't waste them," Dave chipped in. "If you can get them up without setting them off, we can use them against the Combine."

"Ah. Good to know." He activated the Gravity Gun, and was about to start when he abruptly switched it off and turned to face them. "Sorry, what do Hoppers do?"

Everyone looked at everyone else. Finally, it was Tess who spoke. "They blow up."

"They're mines, then," he said, although he was more thinking out loud than actually asking. "And why are they called Hoppers?"

This time, Simon was the one to break the sizeable silence. "Because… they hop."

Ignoring their slight disillusionment with the One Free Man, Gordon just nodded again. "Right. That makes sense. Thanks."

'Because they hop'? What the hell did that mean?

He shook it off and got to work, aiming the Gravity Gun down through the hole. There was a cluster of three waiting for anyone who jumped down. Gordon brought one up, the red light on top first becoming blue, then green. He assumed that meant disarmed. Just to be on the safe side…

Gordon turned and fired the thing across the courtyard, where it exploded with a sizeable bang against the wall. Everyone ducked their heads, Gordon included. He waved a hand around apologetically.

"Sorry, sorry. My fault."

He pulled up the next one, waited for the light to go green, then slowly guided it over the fence, letting it drop away from their intended path. It landed with a metallic thunk, the three metal claws digging into the ground again. A nod of satisfaction was all he allowed himself before he got to work on the rest. Once the mines around the hole were cleared, they jumped down, everyone staying in a strict straight line behind him as he created a path for them.

And, after about half an hour, they were through. Gordon let out a sigh of frustration as he walked up the steps. That had taken far too long.

"Wow, Freeman!" the rebel at the corridor exclaimed, "that's the fastest I've ever seen anyone clear a field of Hoppers!"

"Really?" he asked, checking with the others. They all nodded. Gordon shrugged, then nodded through the corridor. "Is that the way to the staging area?"

"Yeah. I'd come with you, but I'm on lookout duty. Telling everyone where to go, y'know?"

Although he tried to look disappointed, Gordon was rather relieved by that bit of news. Five people looking to him for the answers to all their woes was quite enough, thank you. Handguns drawn, he led the way, even though he had no idea where he was going.

The end of the corridor led out into an empty street. On the left, the road led uphill to a tall metal Combine wall. Immediately on his right, a bridge had half collapsed, blocking off that road as well. Gordon looked across the street and saw a dimly lit doorway that looked like it went down. He led the way. The ground thumped as they crossed the street, and he heard Dave cry out.

"STRIDER!"

Gordon's head whipped around to him, then to what he was looking at, high above their heads. It was stood on the other side of the collapsed bridge. He remembered seeing one when he had first arrived in City 17, wandering past rather calmly. The cannon beneath its' 'head', once lolloping around, was now fully at attention, pointing at the source of the sudden noise.

Dave was terrified. He lifted his MP7 and started firing away, bullets achieving nothing.

"Dave, get out of there!" Cara cried, most of the rebels stood with Gordon now, halfway across the road.

A whine filled the air as light seemed to bend around the Striders' cannon.

Gordon rushed to Dave and tackled him to the ground, a bolt of energy rushing overhead and sucking air along with it. Dust and noise thundered over them as they flew through the air, leaving Gordon's ears ringing as he collided hard with the ground. As his hands dragged along the gravely concrete, he found he couldn't hear much of anything; the others shouting his name sounded like they were in a box.

But he understood. He grabbed Dave's arm and yanked him to his feet, and they sprinted to the others, Greg thankfully leading the way. Looking over his shoulder, Gordon could see the Strider searching for further victims. He also saw the damage it had inflicted on the ground beside them. Nothing but a crater remained, and a deep one at that.

Mental note; don't get hit by Striders.

They all managed to stumble through before the Strider got a lock, and they all but collapsed into the basement area below.

Dave put his back to a wall, curling up into a ball. A comforting Cara was beside him quickly. Simon sat on a barrel, staring off into space while Tess concentrated on the doorway that would be their exit. Greg initially covered the exit before moving over to Gordon.

"That was crazy," he said quietly. "You know what a Strider weapon does to anything it hits?"

Gordon wiggled his little finger in his ear, but with the HEV gloves on it helped very little. "I do now," he grumbled, his voice sounding ridiculously muffled in his own head.

Greg seemed ready to say more when Cara approached. "How're your ears?"

"Hm?"

"Your ears?"

"What?"

"Your-" she stopped herself and smiled. "Are you messing with me?"

"…maybe." Gordon nodded to Dave. "How is he?"

"Oh, he's fine, I've given him something that should make him feel better in a few minutes," she said, tapping a half-full vial of green liquid.

Huh. Half-full, not half-empty. He was thinking positive. That was a good thing, he supposed.

"Good."

"And you?"

Gordon shook his head and tapped the lambda symbol on his chest. "All taken care of."

Looking unconvinced but nodding anyway, Cara returned to Dave's side, who was looking chirpier already.

He looked to Greg. "It was worth it."

"No it wasn't," he said, his voice a fierce whisper that only Tess was close enough to hear. "Look, you're _the _Gordon Freeman. You're a symbol for this rebellion that everyone _needs_. Without you, this whole thing falls apart."

Frustration welled in him. "I'm not _the _Gordon Freeman. I'm just Gordon Freeman." He took out one of his handguns and inspected it for imaginary reasons. "The sooner everyone realises that, the better off they'll be," he muttered.

After a moment of silence and a glare that said 'I DISAPPROVE GREATLY', Greg nodded to the stairs Tess was guarding.

"We need to keep moving. Barney's expecting you. If I know him, he's probably waiting _for _you before he starts the attack."

"You're probably right," Gordon conceded, pulling out the other handgun. "Let's go."

Everyone followed, Tess giving him a lingering look of annoyed confusion before taking up the rear. Honestly, the women he had met today were giving him all sorts of vague looks.

Working together like something resembling a team, they managed to navigate their way through the torn streets of City 17, occasionally having to stop for Hoppers littering the roads or even the odd bathroom break here and there (which, in itself led to embarrassing questions about the HEV suit and waste disposal). Eventually they were forced to clamber up through the decrepit remains of a building, thankfully mostly forgotten by the Combine. Opening up a door on the other side of the building, they found a hole in the floor that plunged down to the ground.

Carefully lowering themselves down, they found themselves on the first floor overlooking the hole leading to ground level. The walls of the floor below were basically windows, like the display at the front of a shop. Gordon lowered himself down first.

He came face to face with a Combine turret. It activated just in time for Gordon to kick it over, sending it bleeping and spasming to the floor, bullets lodging themselves in the wall beside it. The windows shattered behind him, and Gordon tucked himself into a corner. Poking his head around, he saw a Combine barricade at the far end of the street. The other end was blocked by one of those towering metal walls that eat everything that the Combine seemed so fond of.

CPs and soldiers littered the barricade. Looking across the street, Gordon saw a building with a doorway that had literally been blown open. From the looks of it, the building seemed to lead around the back of the barricade.

The others dropped down to join him, and checked their weapons while they were behind the wall.

Gordon looked to Greg, who was closest to him. "Wait here."

He nodded. "Do you want any cover?"

The scientist blanched. He hadn't thought about that.

"Yes," he said slowly, like someone in a restaurant trying something they weren't sure they were going to like. "Yes, I do."

Gordon started running, heading for the nearest overturned wreck of a car.

The once quiet street exploded into gunfire, bullets thudding into the concrete and ricocheting off the car he dove behind. A beeping that was barely audible over the guns distracted him, and Gordon looked for the source. It sounded close. His eyes settled on a handheld contraption, wires and thick blocks of something attached to a timer using symbols he had never seen before.

But he knew a countdown when he saw one.

At this point, he was closer to his destination than the departure point, so he decided to make a run for it. A bullet smacked into his side, and he stumbled, jumping for the doorway as the explosive went off behind him. Dust and chunks of road flew over his shoulders, a cloud billowing into the room with him.

Ears ringing, Gordon heaved himself to his feet and looked back out the doorway. A monstrous crater was now between him and the others. On his own again.

He wasn't sure if he was concerned or relieved.

Slipping out his guns, Gordon snuck into the collapsing remains of the building, although as he proceeded further, he realised only one section was in disrepair. The screaming coming from upstairs attested to that.

He moved into a stairwell, a civilian launching himself down the steps. "HELP!"

The man hadn't even seen Gordon; he was just terrified. A blast from a shotgun behind the civilian sent blood bursting out his front, the man tumbling down the stairs into a heap.

Gordon quickly tucked himself beneath the stairs, waiting for the soldier to come down. When he heard footsteps, he whirled out of his hiding place and fired into the soldier's kneecaps, small puffs of red bursting out. The soldier fell, tumbling much like his victim had. One more bullet to the head and Gordon was on his way, a shotgun added to his arsenal.

Upstairs, Gordon found a centre of Combine activity, hidden behind locked doors and frosted glass. Running his hand along the doors, he found they were still the old, dilapidated wood of the building itself, however. He pumped the shotgun, blasted a hole in the glass, and dove through, rolling into their command centre.

The CPs inside were suitably surprised, two down before they could do much of anything. Two more dashed around a corner on Gordon's left and into the corridor he had just been in.

He leapt backwards through the broken door, landing on his back with shotgun cocked. The CP got half a yelped 'Shit' out before the blast tore through him. The last CP radioed it in as he went back through the door and into the command centre, which made Gordon close his eyes and sigh. More people shooting at him.

Gordon was back on his feet in an instant, moving to the doorway, finally swinging the shotgun around and into the face of the last CP, his gun also drawn. The Metrocop's hands were shaking.

Gordon _really _didn't want to shoot him.

"Walk away," he said quietly. "Please, just walk away."

All Gordon could hear was the tinny sound of the CP's breathing beneath his mask. Then he let his gun clatter to the floor. The Metrocop just stood there, staring at Gordon.

The scientist lowered the shotgun, and watched with relief as the CP turned and ran. Hopefully he would take off the uniform so he wouldn't get shot at. But then Gordon remembered the civilian on the stairs. You were liable to get shot at whatever clothes your were wearing.

Moving to the window, Gordon saw that he was now overlooking the barricade, pretty much side on with it. Now, he had two options. He could either fight his way down to the ground floor through the hordes of reinforcements the CP had helpfully called before running away, or…

Gordon took grenades from the three dead CPs. Using the butt of the shotgun, he smashed the window. He backed up, shotgun slung across his shoulders and grenades in hand. One at a time, he pulled the pins and tossed them through the window, hoping his aim was as good as it had been before. Slowly, he moved to the window and peeked outside as they exploded, two on the platform just behind the barricade, and one uselessly on the road behind it.

He shrugged and leapt out of the window, aiming for the platform. In a rare moment of agility, he hit it at speed, rolling forward and aiming to come back up on his feet. Instead, he rolled straight off the platform and to the ground behind the barricade, landing with a thud on his side.

He groaned in pain and at his own idiocy before realising there were still three or so soldiers on the barricade recovering from the shock of the explosions. Scrambling to his feet, he sprinted for the stairs to the platform, crowbar and handgun drawn.

The first soldier swung for him, and Gordon leant back to avoid the blow, firing a shot through his head. The second was a CP, who tried to draw his gun before Gordon reached him. He was still dazzled from the explosion, though, and his bullets went everywhere but into Gordon. A vicious swing of the crowbar across the head sent him tumbling off the platform and to the ground.

Having had more time to recover from the explosion, the third soldier was ready for him. His pulse rifle was drawn as Gordon charged towards him, so the scientist dove for his legs, ending up just beneath him. He fired up through the soldier, emptying the clip. As the soldier tumbled, Gordon grabbed the pulse rifle.

Gordon hefted himself to his feet and tossed the handgun away, looking for controls that would open up the barricade. He found them in the form of a button that was pressed down and lit up. Pushing it in, he watched with satisfaction as it popped out with the light gone, and the gates opened with a metallic creak.

He looked around for the way forward as the others came through. The platform he was stood on snaked around the buildings behind it, leading to an open doorway a few floors above them on the building opposite.

"Up there?" he asked questioningly, to which everyone just shrugged. Except for Tess, who ignored him.

Gordon sighed. "Up there," he said more definitively, leading the way.

'Up there' simply led to more gunshots and blood, framed by cramped old apartment buildings that were probably falling apart in their heyday. The others acquitted themselves well, and far better than Gordon had thought, even if he did end up losing his shotgun. They moved in phases, clearing paths for one another and covering each other's backs when the situation called for it. A tight unit.

God, listen to him, giving his approval as though he were some grizzled general. He just needed to be chewing a cigar to make the image complete. But he _was _impressed. It was certainly better than his 'leap first, maybe survive later' strategy. True, it had worked so far, but it was only a matter of time before it ended badly for him.

The fighting gradually took them further down into the building until they were clambering down through the disintegrating remains and into an echoing chasm of a tunnel. Everything to the right had been cut off by the collapse of the ceiling, so Gordon took them left. Some natural light was afforded by a gap in the tunnel ceiling halfway down the length of the passage.

Winding their way through the web of abandoned cars (although Dave and Simon walked over them and almost made a game out of trying to push the other person off), Gordon found himself becoming increasingly wary that they hadn't encountered any resistance since entering the tunnel.

"You've never used a pulse rifle before, have you?" a slightly demeaning voice chimed in, taking him out of his gloomy thoughts. It was Tess, eyes ahead as though she hadn't spoken.

"Uh… what makes you say that?" he said quietly, trying to ignore the charred Gameboy in the backseat of a car.

"You're aiming wrong, for a start. Half your bullets went into the walls."

He paused. "Oh. I thought I was just a bad shot."

With a sarcastic smile she reached over and took the weapon in his hands. "Like this," she said, aiming it down the tunnel.

"That's what I was doing."

"No, you were doing this." She inched the stock up her shoulder ever so slightly.

"And that affected the aim?" he asked, dubiously inspecting her grip on the rifle.

She shrugged. "Hey, the Combine are sensitive people."

Gordon nodded to the gun. "And that's it? Aiming wrong?"

"No."

"Thought not."

"I-" she caught herself to give him a glare before resuming, "I saw you reload too fast. These things use a charge like a battery to fire the bullets, and there's a fresh charge in every clip that reloads. If you don't let the reload cycle go on for long enough, you can't use all the bullets in the clip."

"I thought they ran out too quickly…"

"Just make sure it beeps next time you reload," she said, tossing the weapon back to him.

Satisfied, he nodded. "Thank you."

Without replying, she moved on ahead, suddenly in a hurry to get away from him. He rushed to catch up with her.

"Are you all right?"

"Fine."

Well, _that _was the fakest statement Gordon had heard since the last broadcast from Breen.

"Okay, then."

Abruptly, she stopped and whirled around to face him. "I mean, Jesus, what the hell am I supposed to think about you now?"

"Uh…"

"Here I was, ready to dismiss you as just some trumped up scientist with a messiah-complex - as though Magnusson wasn't enough - and then you start all this 'I'm just Gordon Freeman' crap."

"Uh…"

"I…" she laughed at herself, throwing a hand into the air, "I even had a speech ready. All about how I used to be a cop, that the real heroes are never the figureheads, it's always the people like Barney who do all the work and never get the credit… and then you came along and did a giant shit all over that."

"Oh. Sorry."

"I mean… what the hell are you doing here?"

Slightly confused, Gordon said, "Could you elaborate?"

A heavy sigh escaped her, like he had landed the weight of the world on her shoulders - which was something he had experience with.

"Look, no offence, but you're not exactly the superhero of yore I've been hearing about for the past twenty years. For a start, you barely look thirty, which would make you _not quite _ten when Black Mesa happened."

"Uh… I age gracefully."

Tess ignored the comment and continued on. "And then there's the way you act on the battlefield. You've got skills, I'll give you that, but…" She sighed again. "Look, I'll be honest. It's like you've never worked with a squad before."

Gordon tried to keep his face as blank as possible, but it still managed to show, judging by Tess' reaction.

"Oh, God, you've never worked with a squad before."

Anxious that the others would overhear, Gordon muttered, "Does a squad of Antlions count?"

She gave him an equally blank look. "No… not really."

When her stare became too much for him, Gordon nodded down the tunnel. "Let's… keep moving."

He started walking, hoping she would leave him alone for a bit. It didn't last long, and she was bouncing up alongside him in moments.

"How have you survived twenty years and never worked with a squad? Hell, how did you survive Black Mesa?"

"I did okay by myself," he said quietly and defensively.

"Well, _yeah_, but-"

"Look, I…" he paused and took a breath. "All of this… isn't really me. Guns, soldiers, crowbars, vents… I didn't know about any of it until a few days ago. Well, except the vents. I used those a lot."

"'A few days'?"

Gordon realised what he had just said and shook his head, smiling. "Sorry. I meant I haven't _slept _for a few days."

He winced at the terrible story as he turned, trying to get as far away from this conversation as possible. Tess still followed along.

"Hey-"

"HACKS!"

The echoing cry made them both whirl around, and they saw Greg looking upward at the broken gap in the roof of the tunnel. Through it, Gordon could make out the early morning blue sky of City 17, mired by what looked like dozens of Manhacks.

The squad opened fire. As Gordon brought up his pulse rifle to do the same, the Gravity Gun knocked against his back. He looked back at it, and a spark went off in his brain. Dropping the rifle for now, he swung the Gravity Gun around and waited.

The bullets did little except bounce the Manhacks awkwardly through the sky, although a few did manage to hit the same target and shatter them into a brilliant shower of sparks. Many got through, however, and Gordon prepared himself.

The first through went for Simon, and Gordon ran over, skidding into a kneeling position beside him before aiming the Gun at the Manhack. It slung itself towards him, coming to an abrupt halt at the glowing core of the device. He pointed it at a pillar beside him and pressed the trigger, crushing the Manhack into it and sending sparks everywhere.

He smiled. That felt _so _good.

Despite his earlier dismissal of using guns against the Manhacks, the others performed very well, clearing the little monstrosities rather quickly - with a few assists from him, but he was too modest to say anything about that.

He managed to catch one that was heading for the back of Tess' head, and she whirled around in time to see it. She sent him a grateful smile.

The Manhack exploded in midair, and bullets started blasting out at them from the end of the corridor.

"TAKE COVER!"

Greg's command was followed by everyone, and for the first time Gordon wondered if _he _should be the one barking commands like some army drill sergeant. Although, judging from Tess' horrified look when he had spoken about a squad of Antlions… maybe not.

He dove down behind an old car with Tess, poking his head up over the bonnet to see who was shooting at them. Combine soldiers, based at the far end of the tunnel, hidden behind mounted machineguns. He spotted something else near them, and ducked back down.

"Give me a grenade," he said, urgently beckoning with his hand.

Tess handed it over without question. The ring of the grenade held in his teeth, Gordon scooped up the pulse rifle and aimed through the empty shell of the drivers' compartment. He was about to fire when he adjusted the stock on his shoulder ever so slightly, earning an amused smile from Tess.

He fired, hitting the desired explosive barrels halfway between them and the Combine. A chain reaction of booming explosions was the reward, as well as the spongy cloud of smoke spreading out.

"Excuse me," he grunted, vaulting over the car and running into the mist. The vague shapes of the Combine took form, glowing blue eyes giving them away.

Although his bright orange suit probably didn't do him any favours, either. With a few garbled commands, they pointed their weapons at him. Gordon pulled the pin of the grenade and threw it, leaping to the ground behind the remains of a pickup truck.

He was sure he heard someone yell 'shit' before the explosion went off, but didn't think about it any further, instead leaping to his feet and charging past the now unmanned machineguns and into the temporary den they had dug for themselves. There were three left alive.

Gordon shot down one before the rifle clicked, empty. He ran at the second as he scrambled to get his rifle up. He slipped out his crowbar and smashed it through the helmet with a backhand motion. The third soldier behind him, Gordon whirled around and swung the crowbar in an uppercut.

The smoke cleared, and Gordon was alone.

"All clear!" he shouted, although it regrettably wasn't at the same intense volume of Greg's.

He could just make out the others slowly coming forward, checking behind them at random intervals.

"Gordon Freeman?"

The frantic voice made Gordon jump, and he turned to the source; the collapsed wall at the end of the tunnel. Slowly creeping towards it, he found a small crack in the bottom of the wall. A bearded rebel with an excited look in his eye stared back at him.

"It is you, isn't it?"

Wasn't much he could say to that. "…yes."

"Awesome! I'm Ryan, uh… I mean… yeah. Look, gimme a minute; I'm gonna plant some charges and blow this open!"

The man disappeared to get to his work. Gordon blinked and shook his head. Why were all these people so excited?

"I can't believe I'm talking to _the _Gordon Freeman! I mean, you're a legend around here, you know that?"

"Didn't have a clue."

"Really? I mean… there are a _lot _of legends about you. Hey, is it true you saved a hospital ward of babies from a bullsquid?"

Sitting down against the wall, he stopped to think about it, which troubled him. Had he really been through so much that all the events were blurring together?

"That doesn't sound familiar."

"Oh. Is it true you invented the phrase, 'You've just been headcrabbed'?"

"'You've just been headcrabbed'?"

"Yeah. A Marine had you cornered when you slammed a headcrab down on him and pushed him off the cliff. Then you stood up and said it."

"Uh… also not familiar with that one. Where did you hear these stories?"

"Oh, here and there. No-one really knows what's true and what's not, although Barney's done his best to help."

Gordon grunted. "I'm sure…"

"Like the one about the visiting supermodel who had been dating Dr Breen, but then you saved her from a barnacle and she was all like 'Oh, you're Gordon Freeman and I love you now', but you were like 'I'm Gordon Freeman, bitch', and-"

"Wait, wait… I called her a bitch?"

"Huh? Oh, I'm not sure. That's just what Barney told us."

A frustrated breath escaping him, Gordon clenched his teeth and reminded himself to hit Barney on the head with his crowbar when he saw him. "Right…"

"Why, is that not right?"

The others had arrived, and Gordon brought himself to his feet. "Just… omit the 'bitch' part from now on, all right?"

"Gotcha. Hey, is it true that you have a brother?"

_That _one caught him off-guard, and he tried not to show it as Greg caught up to him. His brother was still alive?

"Uh… yes. Yes, I do."

"Does he _really _do that many back flips?"

Baffled and a little irritated, Gordon completely ignored Greg and poked his head down so he was looking through the gap in the wall. Ryan wasn't there.

"_What?"_

"Back flips," Ryan explained, still unseen. "I heard he saved you with them hundreds of times. He even did it with a motorcycle once."

At this point, even Greg was interested, and chimed in. "Wouldn't doing a back flip with a motorcycle come with pretty big consequences?"

Gordon, meanwhile, was just disappointed. His heart had sunk as soon as Ryan had mentioned his brother saving him. It sounded like just one more myth about Black Mesa that had no basis in reality. They probably heard of a time Gordon fell from something high up and ended up landing on his back. He supposed that could look like a back flip to someone watching.

"Incoming," Tess called out, bringing their attention back to matters of reality.

Soldiers, at least a dozen of them, were moving up the tunnel, ducking behind whatever they could find as Greg and the others took pot-shots at them. Gordon moved to one of the mounted machineguns. Tess was already at the other.

Ryan's tiny voice came from behind him.

"Freeman? You still there?"

"Just blow up the damn wall!" Tess cried, making everyone jump.

Ryan was silent for a moment. "Gotcha."

And with that, everyone opened fire. Time seemed to slow down as Gordon pulled the trigger on the machinegun. Helmets cracked, puffs and spurts of blood sifted through the air, and bullets sparked against the metal skeletons of cars long since abandoned. Gordon thought he heard Tess scream, but he concentrated on firing, his finger aching from the pressure on the trigger and the kickback of the gun.

Someone called out his name, he wasn't sure who.

A sudden heat blasted onto the back of his neck, sound filling his ears as he was propelled over the machinegun by the explosion. Bullets whizzed overhead as he stumbled to his feet.

His ears ringing, he saw Ryan frantically summoning him over through the cloud of dust. Gordon didn't need telling twice. Neither did the rest of the squad, for that matter. Except, he noticed, for one person.

Tess, stood at the machinegun. That was when Gordon saw that her earlier scream wasn't out of fear. It was a war-cry.

She didn't stop until every soldier was dead, even sending a healthy barrage of bullets into the corpses before letting up.

Everyone stared from beneath the new archway Ryan had created for them. Tess, breathing heavily, seemed a little dazed as she walked over to them, her disturbingly blank eyes on everything but her squad.

As she passed him, Gordon reached out with a cautious hand. "Are you all right?"

There was a tense silence before Tess' gaze finally shifted over to him. "Me?" she said quietly. "They're the ones who're dead."

Her piece said, she moved through the crowd and sat on a random piece of rubble in the new room they had discovered, immediately inspecting her weapon.

No-one said anything. Who could? Gordon sure as hell didn't want to break this silence.

"Uh…"

Everyone turned, looking to the hapless Ryan for some reprieve.

His finger, which had previously been poking up in the air like a schoolboy's, slowly arched over to something behind the group. Looking over, they saw a simple red door.

"That door is locked from the other side, Doctor Freeman. Maybe you can find another way around."

He looked around the space. It was really just another area of collapsed tunnel. There was a hole in the wall on the far side, and Gordon walked over to it, pulse rifle hanging loosely by his side. Gordon crouched down when he reached it, peering inside. The Geiger counter of his HEV suit immediately crackled venomously.

"Radioactive…"

"Sounds nasty," Ryan agreed, before adding far too cheerfully, "good thing you've got that suit!"

"Yes," Gordon muttered, the word barely taking form in his mouth. "See you later, I suppose."

He took a deep breath, and started crawling.

There was a bang like a gun going off. Then another. Gordon scurried back out of the hole and looked back to see Tess kicking open the red door, having blasted the lock to pieces with her rifle. The others waiting behind her like nothing was out of the ordinary.

Gordon exchanged a look with Ryan, who looked as stunned as he felt. They both ran to her.

"What?" she said, looking to the others for support. "It's not like I'm the only one who had this idea."

Looking to the others, he just got confirming nods. Gordon hadn't really thought about it. He just assumed the doors were gun-proof. He looked to Ryan, who was still clueless.

"I'm new here," Gordon said, slowly. "What's your excuse?"

Becoming more embarrassed by the second, Ryan looked to his feet, mumbling. "I, uh… didn't do well in college."

Silence reigned supreme, punctured only by the occasional explosion or gunshot from the city above.

Gordon took a deep breath. "Let's go, shall we?"

Everyone seemed to be in agreement, and rushed through the door. After the claustrophobia of the tunnels, Gordon was actually eager to be outdoors again.

A Strider roared somewhere in the city, and something exploded.

Maybe not.

The streets were empty as they emerged up the stairs and into the street. Cars were overturned, burning craters lay in the roads, and the remains of headcrab shells protruded from the ground like obscene metal plants.

Greg led the way without a word of encouragement, which Gordon was grateful for. The less he had to show off the fact he had no idea what he was doing, the better. They moved through an archway nestled beneath an apartment building, taking them into another street. From there they moved to a corridor in the building opposite.

It took them to a locked metal gate with a stairway going right and into the building. A rebel appeared in front of him, but behind the gate. He was haggard and bleeding from his right arm, though the wound had been bandaged.

"Doctor Freeman? If you were looking for place to hold up, it's not safe here anymore. They're shelling the hell out of us."

As though to accentuate the point, a volley of explosions littered the rooftops of the buildings behind the rebel. A metal drawbridge slammed down from one building to another, rebels charging across as Combine soldiers fired away.

A grenade landed not too far behind the rebel and exploded, sending chunks of dust and paving stones through the air. The rebel ducked his head, and came back up coughing.

"Keep moving, Doctor Freeman. I'll send word you're coming and see you up ahead!"

Gordon agreed with a nod, although he didn't think he would see the man again. Apparently satisfied, the rebel disappeared into the cloud behind him. He took a breath at the thought that the man he was just speaking to was probably going to die sooner rather than later, then looked to Greg. The forlorn expression he wore indicated this sort of thing didn't get easier with time.

With a sigh, Gordon charged up the stairs.

The building was largely empty - they made their way through empty, desolate apartments, the stench from some of the old kitchens overpowering. As they progressed upwards, the building seemed to fall apart piece by piece. Walls were missing, sometimes burning, the sounds and smells of battle heavy in the air as Gordon led the way.

Eventually they reached the lowest of the two drawbridges Gordon had spied earlier, and made their way across without incident. It took them to a sizeable hole in the wall of the building, which in turn led them up a couple of floors. Well, it would have done if there were stairs. As it was, the rooms above had collapsed in on one another, creating an obstacle course of concrete curves and dips.

Fires crackled seemingly from nowhere as Gordon and the others struggled to clamber up. Ryan slipped, and Gordon saw Simon grab him. There was a brief exchange of nods between the two, then it was back to business. Something about the gesture made Gordon feel better. The innate goodness of humanity, he supposed. Or something like that.

Dave reached the top first, and was greeted with a bullet to the shoulder, blood spraying out and onto Tess. He slid back down the slanted ground, Gordon crouching to grab him. Cara was beside them in an instant, tearing her backpack from her shoulders and getting to work.

Tess reached the ledge and fired wildly into the air. Greg nodded for Gordon, Ryan and Simon to follow him. They did so, moving over the top and to a small piece of wall that still survived on the outside of the building. The crumbling wall was at waist level, and only just long enough to accommodate the four of them. Beside it was the controls for another drawbridge, this one standing vertical and blocking Gordon's view of the building opposite.

He supposed that would work both ways, and crawled to the controls. Looked simple enough. Bullets ricocheting around him, Gordon kicked the catch below the handle, sending it whirling around as the drawbridge fell, the cables moving at blurring speeds to catch up. Gordon scrambled back for cover.

The bridge slammed to the ledge on the other side, bouncing a few times before settling. Gordon peeked around the side, allowing himself a breathless smile at lowering the bridge before he saw the Combine soldiers charging out of the building and over the bridge.

"Crap," he breathed. Then he stood up and started firing.

Two soldiers at the front fell straight away, though more were coming behind them. Fire from the rooftop of a building opposite forced him down again.

"Are we in deep shit?" Simon asked, breathless.

Greg nodded. "Little bit."

_Note to self. When you think you have a good idea, do nothing._

"I'll take the bridge," he said as authoritatively as he could manage, "you take the rooftops."

No-one argued, although Greg looked reluctant. The soldiers had kicked the dead bodies of their comrades from the bridge. Leaning out the side of his cover, Gordon took out their knees.

"Look," he said, moving back to Greg, "this uprising started when everyone thought I was dead. It doesn't need me to keep on going."

A word of protest seemed to be on his lips, but then he silently acquiesced, nodding.

They got to work. The soldiers on the other side of the drawbridge seemed to have learnt their lesson and were taking cover on the other side, occasionally emerging to take shots at him. He didn't even worry about what was happening on the rooftops; he trusted the others to take care of it.

That was new for him. Trusting others completely to have his back. Even in Black Mesa when he fought alongside trained security guards, he always felt like something could go wrong at any minute, that they would make a mistake that he wouldn't, that he still had to keep an eye out for everything. It was why he preferred to handle these things alone.

But now, with Alyx, and then with this squad…

He had watched them fight, watched them take out enemies that would otherwise have crept up on their team-mates unannounced. They weren't trained soldiers. They weren't trained _anything_.

Maybe that was why he felt he could trust them more. They were just like him.

Gordon dipped in and out of cover, only hitting a few soldiers, and even then not fatally. This was getting frustrating. He glanced back and wondered how Cara was doing tending to Dave. Hopefully they would be back soon, this was going nowhere fast with their current numbers.

"FREEMAN!"

Greg's terrified scream was the only warning he got before he was grabbed roughly by the shoulders and tossed aside with a strength he didn't know a human could muster. There was a sudden bang and a tremendous force shoved him through the air and into the ruined building. He tumbled roughly along the slanted floor, rolling past Cara and Dave before coming to a thudding halt against the wall.

Gordon blinked stars and flashing colours as he attempted to right himself, Cara's gentle hands steadying him into a sitting position. Her muffled voice tried to reach him, but he couldn't hear a thing of the ringing white noise. Her face came into focus before the voice.

"-you all right?"

Wincing, Gordon rubbed the back of his neck and clambered to his feet. The HEV suit was worrying away, applying this and that to deal with the pain and shock. A sinking feeling in his stomach, Gordon ignored Cara's questions as he moved back up to the battle. Simon was screaming, burns across his body. Ryan was okay, though traumatised. Even Tess couldn't help staring at whatever was at Gordon's feet.

And then there was the bleeding, open, dead body of Greg, waiting on the floor like a horrific calling card.

It had been a grenade. The black spray pattern on the wall attested to that. Gordon had been so absorbed in his own thoughts, his own fight, that he hadn't been paying attention. He looked at the body, the face blackened and red, sizzling like barbequed meat.

All because of the One Free Man.

He moved to cover beside Simon, picking up his surprisingly undamaged pulse rifle as he went.

Gordon leaned forward and looked to Tess. "Look after him," he said, nodding at Simon.

He didn't give the woman a chance to reply before he launched himself onto the bridge, his head down. The soldiers on the rooftop tried to take aim but quickly ducked back down as the squad opened fire on him. Glancing back, Gordon saw that Cara and Dave had rejoined the group.

Soldiers on the other side of the bridge were coming at him now. The first of three took a swipe at his head with his rifle, and Gordon ducked beneath it, sweeping his weapon through his legs and sending him tumbling several stories below.

The second soldiers caught him on the cheek with his rifle, and Gordon tumbled off the bridge, only just managing to latch onto the metal lattice-work. His rifle tumbled to the streets below. The Combine brought his rifle up to bear, only for his head to explode onto his fellow soldier. He fell limply past Gordon, leaving his rifle on the bridge.

The last soldier was frozen for a moment until he noticed Gordon clambering up onto the bridge. By then Gordon's crowbar was out, and the soldier didn't really have a chance to fight back before it came crashing through his helmet and threw him off the bridge as well.

There was relative silence, and Gordon noted that the soldiers on the rooftops were gone. Explosions went off somewhere in the city. Smoke billowed in the distance, and gunshots rattled in the air. A Strider hooted angrily.

Gordon turned back to his squad and nodded for them to follow. Tess was the only one to move.

He only noticed the wetness on her cheeks when she was stood right in front of him. Her voice didn't even shake as she spoke.

"I, uh…" she cleared her throat. "I think someone needs to say something."

He blinked, then nodded his understanding. There was along silence before Gordon noticed that Tess was looking at him with a degree of expectation. So were the others behind her, crowded around the body.

"But…" he ducked his head so as not to be heard by the squad. "…I didn't even know him."

"None of us did."

The way she said it made Gordon frown. "Do… any of you know each other?"

She shrugged. "Cara and Dave, maybe… not sure. We all met today."

"Then why do _I _need to say something?" he asked quietly, though he knew the answer as soon as Tess opened her mouth.

"Because you're-"

"-the Freeman, yeah, I got it," he sighed. He moved past her and to the mourning congregation.

He noticed with some relief that they had covered him with a blanket from somewhere. That was good. He didn't need to be fighting the retching instinct while delivering a eulogy.

"Uh…" his voice quaked, and he stopped for a moment. Tess sidled up next to him, head bowed.

"I, uh… didn't know Greg. Although I hear that none of you know each other very well, so… I just think that…"

Gordon sighed. He had no idea where he was going with this.

"…Greg deserves our thanks. He was a good man, and he died saving us. Saving me. He didn't deserve it." His eyes stung. "And I'm certainly not worth it. No-one should have to die to save _my _life. I'm nobody. He told me that I need to stay alive, I'm more important than anyone else, that I'm a symbol."

He knew this was wrong, that he should stop, that he was making this about himself… but something just kept propelling the words out of him.

"I'm not the One Free Man, or the Opener of the Way… I'm just Gordon Freeman. And I've got no idea what I'm doing. I just do what I'm told. What you've all done, what you're doing right now… you don't need _me _for it. You did it all by yourselves. And this…" he nodded down Greg, "this is my fault. Because I let it go on. I just went with it, accepted it, like I have everything else. Maybe a liked it, I don't know."

He blew out a breath. "I'm not a leader, I'm not an inspiration, I'm not a saviour. And you shouldn't put your lives in my hands."

His voice cracked.

"Greg was a better man than me. I should have been taking a grenade for him, and I _definitely_ shouldn't be delivering his eulogy."

Frustrated, he swiped his glasses from his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. After taking a few seconds to compose himself, he put them back on his face and started walking across the bridge.

He heard footsteps following behind him, and he turned to face Tess.

"No-one else is going to die because of me."

Tess nodded. "Okay."

"It'd be better if you stay away."

She shrugged. "Hey, I'm trying, believe me. I'm just walking in the same direction as you." She turned to the squad, all of them stood behind her.

"They're walking in the same direction, too. We're like a hiking club."

Ryan cleared his throat, trying to make his timid voice sound more impressive. "We're with you, Freeman. All the way."

"I'll take point," Simon said, limping past Gordon and crossing the bridge. The squad followed suit, leaving a bewildered Gordon stood with Tess.

"What… just happened? Did they hear a word I said?"

She sighed. "You _do _realise that the more you deny that you're 'The One Free Man', the greater you'll look to them?"

He couldn't think of a reply.

Tess smiled with what he assumed was her approximation of affection and walked away, shaking her head. "Dumbass…"

The building was quiet, although Gordon expected it wouldn't last long. They descended through the collapsing building slowly, eventually dropping down into a bare room with a sizeable hole in the middle of the wooden floor. He could hear Combine turrets and what sounded like zombies grunting away. He started forward, and only paused when Tess tapped his arm and gave him a warning 'be careful' look.

Gordon just nodded and delicately moved his way forward. Then the floor gave way, and he tumbled down into the room below, landing on a zombie in an awkward pile. He frantically rolled himself off and let the Combine turrets finish the job on the zombie before it started towards him. It was beside a closed door, the only exit out of the room. Looking around, Gordon saw only the corpses of more zombies and a Combine terminal on the wall. No cover.

He went for the Gravity Gun, already knowing it was too late.

That was when the door exploded, hurling the turret across the room and bouncing off the wall opposite. As it wailed an objection and fired off bullets like a kid throwing a tantrum, Gordon prepared himself for whatever was coming through the door, rifle at the ready.

He sure as hell wasn't expecting Alyx, gun pointed at him.

"Gordon!" Relief seemed to flood from her, and she put her pistol away. "I had a feeling I'd find you here. I've got Dr Kleiner in a safe spot; now we can join up with Barney."

"Freeman? Everything okay down there?"

It was Tess.

Feeling self conscious but not entirely understanding why, Gordon shot an awkward smile at Alyx before tilting his head upwards. "I'm fine. Alyx is here."

"Okay…"

Feeling like an idiot, Gordon shook his head. "I mean… Alyx _Vance."_

"Oh, _right_… okay, right. We'll be down in a sec."

As they took turns leaping down into the room, Alyx sent a questioning look in Gordon's direction.

"They're my squad. Well, not… _my _squad, exactly. I'm just… with them."

Before she could reply, everyone was gathered around Gordon and looking to Alyx like she was a drill sergeant.

"Okay, listen up. There's a command centre downstairs. I'm hoping to find information about generator locations."

She filled the role rather well. Alyx leading the way, everyone silently moved into the corridor outside and down the stairs. A single patrolling Combine soldier didn't know what hit him.

Afterwards, they took positions on two doors leading into the same room. They split off into two groups, Gordon, Simon, Dave and Cara on one, Alyx, Tess and Ryan on the other.

"Okay, this is it. You take that door, we'll take this one. Ready when you are."

Simon placed himself on the left of the door, Dave and Cara on the other. Tess seemed to be onto something when she said they might know each other. Putting the thought aside for now, Gordon took a breath before sending a leg through the door, something he had never tried before.

It seemed to work, although whether that was down to his technique or the HEV suit, he didn't know. The Combine soldiers inside the glowing blue room didn't seem to be expecting it, though.

With only four of them inside, they managed to make quick work of them. Gordon barely got a shot off before it was over. He had to remind himself that wasn't a bad thing.

Alyx went straight for the sizeable console in the corner of the room and, after a quick attack from her hacking device, started tapping away on the keyboard. Gordon looked around while he waited. This looked like it would have been a rather nice apartment back in the day. Big.

As usual, Alyx brought him back to reality. "Well, we're in luck. There's a generator in the square outside."

Peering over at the screen, he saw a dark metal booth that looked like something a parking attendant would live in. Behind it stood a tall, thick shaft of metal, obviously covering something inside.

"We're trying to disable as many as we can to loosen the Combine's grip on this sector. It'll take me a few minutes to expose the core, then I'll need you to hit it with a burst from the Gravity Gun."

Once he nodded his understanding, Alyx looked to the others. "This isn't going to be pretty, people. Not that anything around here is, but don't go thinking this is going to be easy."

Everyone seemed to understand, and Gordon couldn't help but envy Alyx's skills. They knew what she was telling them; some, if not all of them, were going to die, or at least be wounded doing this. And yet she did it in such a way that they _wanted _to. He knew exactly where this respect came from. They knew that she had lived through it, had grown up in this world, the same as them.

The One Free Man was just fiction. Propaganda. Alyx, Barney, Kleiner, Eli… they were the ones to be followed.

They were the ones people should be taking grenades for.

He blinked and noticed that the squad were filing out another door on the opposite side of the room. Alyx shut down the terminal and made to follow them before stopping beside him for a moment.

"Gordon? You okay?"

"Hm? Oh. Yes. Yes, of course. Sorry. I was elsewhere, sorry."

She looked unconvinced. "…right. Just don't go spacing out when we're out there, okay? Even the One Free Man can be killed by a stray bullet, y'know."

Gordon tried to smile, but it obviously didn't go well, judging by Alyx's reaction.

"You sure you're all right?"

He sighed, looking at the empty doorway. "I will be once this is done."

Trying his best not to look back, Gordon walked out of the doorway with as much determination as he could muster. He couldn't bring himself to say anything to Alyx. Not now. He had already wasted enough time and energy on self-pity. It was time to stop bemoaning that he was 'The One Free Man' and start acting like a citizen of City 17. It was the least he could do.

The squad were waiting in the corridor outside, stood at a locked door down some stairs. Alyx moved past Gordon and to the door, shooting an awkward glance back at him before pulling out her magic wand and blasting the retinal scanner locked onto the wooden door. It swung open with a creak, daylight blasting in.

They emerged into a courtyard wedged between three tall buildings, like a triangle. There were two roads going off to the left and right from where Gordon stood. Ahead stood the centrepiece of the courtyard, inside which sat the control station for the generator. An imposing, wide metal gate was behind the generator.

Alyx made a beeline for the booth, everyone following in a formation Gordon assumed was secure. A Combine radio beeped, and the squad opened fire on a solider stood on a balcony of the building they had just emerged from. Before anyone managed to tag him, however, he fired a flare into the sky, the red light blazing a trail for all to see.

Ryan let out a tired 'Crap' as he pulled out the clip from his machinegun to check it over. Inside the booth, Alyx was in her own little hacking world.

"It's a standard panel. This shouldn't take too long. As soon as the generator's down, I'll open that gate, and we can get out of here."

Dropships flew over head and landed at the far end of each of the roads leading out of the courtyard. When Gordon concentrated he could see the blue shimmer of the force fields that had been erected at the end of each road, just ahead of the dropships. It didn't seem to bother the Combine soldiers, who trudged through without much difficulty.

Alyx muttered away to herself as she worked, occasionally glancing back to the generator. "Come on, come on…"

A low wall ran around the perimeter of the booth, and the squad took cover behind it. Gordon, wanting something a little more practical, hopped over and ran to the burnt, upside down ruins of a car.

Gordon leapt up and opened fire at a group of soldiers who were trying to make their way past. But even as they fell, another group emerged from behind their corpses, blasting away at him.

Ducking back down, Gordon looked over at the squad, and saw that three of them had split off to contain the road on the other side of the courtyard. Ryan and Simon were still with him on this side.

A grenade landed beside him, and he quickly used the Gravity Gun to fire it back over the car and into the street. All he heard was a confused grunt before it exploded. Gordon fell to the ground and aimed for the ankles through the gap between the ground and what would have been the hood of the car.

The soldiers fell, and Gordon continued firing until they were dead. Job done, he moved quickly around the car and scooped up one of the weapons from the fallen soldiers. As more enemies moved through the force field, Gordon ran across the road and tucked himself behind some fallen debris.

"_There goes the external shield."_

It was Alyx, on his suit radio. Glancing back to the generator, he could see that the metal casing had shifted down into the ground, leaving what looked like a large glass tube in the centre. A glowing, constantly shifting orb hovered in the middle of the tube. That would be the power source, then. It looked like the energy orb that pulse rifles fired.

A grenade exploded on the road across from them, and Gordon looked over in a panic. All three were okay, though blinded by the smoke from the explosion. A Combine soldier emerged from the mist and shot Cara in the chest three times before Tess managed to blast his head off.

Gordon's stomach dropped, and he could feel pressure building in his head. Dave wept openly over the body. They weren't trained soldiers. They weren't meant for this. Tess kept on fighting as more soldiers made their way down the road.

Soldiers were coming up behind his improvised cover. Latching a hand onto the top, Gordon vaulted over and charged headfirst into the belly of one of the soldiers, sending them both tumbling awkwardly to the ground. Gordon rolled off and tore him apart with the pulse rifle, quickly whirling around and doing the same to his comrade.

More soldiers came through the force field, and Gordon fired in a wide spread, taking more bullets than he could afford to, his HEV suit quietly insisting he avoid any more sudden impacts.

"_Inner shields are coming down."_

Gordon didn't want to know. He didn't care.

A grenade landed in front of him, although it was thrown from behind. He backed up and leapt away as it exploded. Looking up from where he landed, he saw that Simon was the source, Tess having joined them in the small grassy area. Gordon made his way over to them, trying to ignore the sight of Dave's body beside Cara's.

Tess rubbed away insistent tears with her sleeve. "The idiot refused to move, soldiers were coming in… what could I do?"

He gave her shoulder what he assumed was a reassuring rub before focusing his attention on the road Tess was guarding. The soldiers were too close; they were trying to get around to Alyx, and in their numbers, they were close to succeeding. Glancing at the generator, he could see the glass tube that contained the glowing orb slowly lowering.

"Cover me- shit-"

With a sudden, horrific bursting noise, something warm splattered against the back of Gordon's neck. He saw Simon lying on the floor, a bullet lodged in his head. Ryan looked at him in abject terror, nearly hyperventilating. Tess ignored it, firing blindly into the mob of soldiers that was now coming down the road.

Gordon fired at the group of soldiers that had shot at Simon, although they were so numerous it didn't matter how many he took down. Fresh gunfire from the booth opened up, and Gordon looked over, panicking at the implications. It was Alyx, joining the fight and crouching down beside him.

"That's it, the core is exposed. Go on, Gordon, give it a jolt!"

He hesitated, seeing just how many soldiers were approaching, and how little the others had to defend themselves with.

"Go, you moron!" Tess cried, not even looking at him.

Gordon dropped the pulse rifle and swung the Gravity Gun around, charging around the booth and taking a well placed bullet in the leg for his trouble. The impact sent him tumbling to the floor. He rolled over and took aim at the orb. He fired, and the bolt of energy punched the orb out of whatever force field was keeping it in place, sending it bouncing all around the courtyard like a burst balloon.

It hit a few soldiers as it went, the reaction being like nothing Gordon had seen before. They seemed to dissolve into white light, floating up into the air as sparkling ashes dispersed into the air. Then they just faded away.

Alyx sprinted past him, heading for the terminal beside the gate. She held out her hacking device and sparks flew.

Tess and Ryan were still in the courtyard, fighting off a horde of soldiers.

Gordon frantically summoned them over. "Come on!"

He felt Alyx's on her arm. "We have to go, Gordon."

"Not without them."

"They're doing this so we can escape!"

"I don't care, they-"

Ryan took a bullet in the shoulder, then the head. Tess was all that was left, deftly firing at both sides and ducking at seemingly random moments, but still managed to avoid fire. A grenade landed in front of her. She looked over her shoulder at him, and smiled through her tears.

The grenade exploded.

Alyx yanked Gordon by the arm, almost throwing him to the ground on the other side of the gate. Before Gordon registered what was going on, Alyx had worked her magic on the gate and closed it in front of him.

He just stared at the cold, hard metal, listening to the Combine radios squawking their garbled messages to one another, trying to find a way through the gate. Eventually, they seemed to disappear.

"They'll get to us soon," Alyx said, moving to him. "We need to go."

"I can't," he whispered, the volume about all he could managed.

"Yes, you can."

"No, I…" he sighed, blinking tears. "I can't do this. I knew those people. They knew me. They _trusted _me, looked to me for answers. How can I… what makes me so special?"

"You're kidding, right?"

His head snapped up to see Alyx looking particularly confused. "What?"

"You're Gordon Freeman. You're the theoretical physicist who survived _Black Mesa_. All those stories about you-"

"Aren't true."

This seemed to take her aback a little. "Well… yeah, but… everyone talks about you like you're… some kind of legend."

"I'm not. I'm _really _not." He looked up at her, frowning and suddenly comprehending. "But you were expecting a legend when you met me, weren't you?"

She waited a moment before she spoke, like she was thinking about it. "I don't know. Maybe. In the end, I guess I didn't know what to expect. At first I thought that all the stories were wrong, that you were just… some guy who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. But then, when I saw you shoot a gun, and I saw you fight, and I saw how you handled everything that was thrown at you like it was no big deal… I started to think… I started to think that maybe you were everything I'd heard."

He took a breath. "Well… I'm sorry to disappoint."

There was silence. All they could hear was the distant sounds of battle. Alyx knelt down beside him.

"Look, Gordon… you're not alone in this. Barney, Dr Kleiner, my dad, Dr Magnusson, even me… they're always looking to us for answers, for guidance. Like _we're _any better qualified to tell them what to do, right?"

Her eyes shifted a little as she went somewhere else in her head. "People have died on my word. Plenty of people, men and women who trusted me, and…" a sigh escaped her, and she shook her head. "The deaths that happened back there are as much my responsibility as yours."

Unconvinced, Gordon took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "But I don't deserve it. You and the others… you've been struggling for twenty years. You _earned _that trust."

"Look," she said, clearly struggling to put this in other terms, "you say that the stories of you in Black Mesa aren't true, right?"

Gordon hesitated, then nodded.

"But they had to come from somewhere, right? You fought soldiers, you fought aliens… and you saved the world. That's a _fact, _Gordon. Ask any Vortigaunt. Twenty years ago, Gordon Freeman saved the world with nothing but a crowbar and a radiation suit."

He shook his head, still unconvinced. "But it's built on a lie. The way they look at me… I wasn't a fighter or a soldier back at Black Mesa. I was just… me."

"Exactly. That's why you're an inspiration. You're a reminder that anyone can save the world. You don't need training or strength or… whatever. All you need is the will."

Slipping his glasses back on, Gordon stared down at the floor, thinking on Alyx's words.

"Look, Gordon…"

He looked at her this time.

"Don't try to be 'The One Free Man,' okay? Just be Gordon Freeman. That's enough, trust me."

She placed a hand on his and gave it the slightest of squeezes. Gordon smiled his thanks, then frowned.

"Wait… Dr Magnusson? Arne Magnusson?"

"Yeah…"

"And people go to him for guidance?"

"Uh, well… guidance might be too strong a word. More… gentle scolding."

That managed to elicit a smile, which Alyx returned readily. Giving his hand a friendly pat, she hefted herself to her feet.

"Okay, let's keep moving. Barney should be on the far side of that… canal…"

Looking ahead, they only then realised that the way ahead was… pretty much gone. Between them and the road ahead was a rather deep trench, where once a river would have presumably flowed.

Alyx looked back with a wry smile. "Well… there _used _to be a bridge here." She paused for a moment to gather her thoughts, her eyes scanning the area. "Let me see if I can scout a new path."

Gordon got to his feet and walked to the edge of the road where the bridge would have once been. Smoke billowed from several sources in the distance.

"Ah!"

He turned and saw Alyx heading for the building next to her. She stopped and waved a hand in his direction.

"Wait for me here. I'll be right back."

With that, she latched on to a drainpipe and started to clamber up. Working like a monkey, she climbed slowly and confidently, nary an unsure foot or shaky hand to be seen.

Gordon tried to ignore the view it was giving him. It was making him blush a little too obviously.

Finally, after a few shimmies across window ledges that made Gordon's heart leap up into his throat, Alyx was on top of the building. She scanned the area around the bridge, her eyes finally settling on the dry riverbed beside them.

"Hey! Looks like we might be able to get through down there."

Gordon wandered over and peered down. There was a doorway in the wall opposite.

"I see it."

"Okay. Let me just… ah, no!"

Gunfire sounded from the rooftop. Gordon scrambled back to the street, backing up to get him a better view, which was frustratingly difficult with the angle being the way it was.

"Alyx?"

He ran to the side of the building and latched onto the drainpipe. Looking up, he saw Alyx's head come over the ledge.

"Gordon, run! Get out of here!"

The butt of a gun collided with the back of her head, and she dropped, unconscious.

"Alyx!"

A Combine soldier peered over the side, and, seeing Gordon, waved his comrades over.

He had to go. He had no weapons that would do any good, and there was no way he would be able to climb up the building without dying very quickly. After one last glance up at Alyx's still form, Gordon ran for the riverbed. A rusting ladder led to the bottom, which he slid down in a hurry before leaping off halfway. The ground was surprisingly hard, and he grunted as he tumbled awkwardly onto his front.

Gathering himself up and with the sound of gunshots spurring him on, Gordon raced to the doorway and barged his way through the old metal gate that waited there for him. Bullets chipped away at the wall beside the doorway, and Gordon didn't stop running through the tunnel until he rounded a corner.

Pressing his back to the wall, he took a moment to catch his breath. He couldn't hear anything; just the gentle drip of a leaking pipe and occasional dull thud from above, presumably an explosion.

Gordon moved on, rescuing Alyx firmly lodged at the front of his mind. She was no doubt kept alive to be used as a hostage, but Gordon held no illusions about her life expectancy. There was a frighteningly real possibility of her death, which was something that Gordon wanted to avoid thinking about very much.

Exploring the dank, rancid tunnels, Gordon found himself surprisingly unmolested by hidden soldiers or zombies. Even headcrabs seemed sparse, although any that did try their luck were promptly crushed by a crowbar. Maybe they were learning.

As he progressed and came to a complex that was presumably used for sewage maintenance, Gordon came across soldiers in mid-battle with zombies, the barely alive monsters lurching towards them regardless of the bullets riddling their bodies. Gordon saw no reason to interrupt them, and carefully slipped around such skirmishes.

Finally, he managed to clamber and negotiate his way to a loading area, finding a control booth for a delivery platform up above. It hung from two metal girders, and looked strong enough to carry ten Dogs. So hopefully he wouldn't cause it too much trouble.

As he walked inside, his foot hit something fairly soft. Looking down, he saw the body of a denim clad citizen, the slashes on his chest and the blood spatter on the wall telling him all he needed to know. Something beside the body caught his eye, and Gordon frowned as he knelt.

A crossbow. It reminded him of the tranquilizer gun he had used in Black Mesa on that… nasty fish thing. Had anyone told him its' name? He couldn't remember. A major difference was the battery attached to the top, although the wires had been disconnected. Metal bars about the length and width of a relay racers baton lay beside it. They were dense, and heavy. He picked up the crossbow and placed the bar in the middle. Delicately reattaching the wires to the battery, he watched as the bar (surprisingly quickly) began to glow a dangerous orange, heated by the metal delivery system it rested on.

"Oh, look," he muttered to no-one in particular. "A new toy."

Five of the bars in one hand and the crossbow in the other, he moved to the controls for the platform and pulled the lever to bring it over. The platform slowly and loudly came to the ledge in front of the booth, and Gordon stepped on. There was one hell of a drop beneath him, and the latticework floor of the platform didn't make him feel safer. Gordon just moved to the middle to afford himself some kind of relief, although the rocking of the platform wasn't helping much.

Before long, however, he was up above and stepping off on to solid ground again. Sunlight poured in above his head, and he saw two skylights in the huge warehouse of a room he stood in. Looking around the complicated array of ladders and walkways above his head, Gordon saw two balconies that might take him out of this underground mess. Metal frames sat around huge water tanks on his right, the ladders attached to those taking him up.

Metal crossbow bars tucked under one arm, he moved to the first ladder. No sooner had his hand touched the first rung when the skylights shattered, and two figures dropped down. There was silence at first, and Gordon quickly clambered up the ladder to afford himself a better view, trying to keep the metal bars of the framework between him and his visitors.

They were in white, their uniforms resembling Victors'. He hoped that wasn't a sign of their fighting prowess, because taking on two Victors would leave him officially screwed. A whine filled the air, but then left with a strange bursting noise he had only heard once before; at St Olga's.

The orb of energy struck him in the chest, knocking him back off the platform and into the wall behind him, bouncing off and landing face first on the metal floor. The crossbow bars rained down around him, clanging loudly.

He grunted. "Ow."

Looking up, he saw the orb bouncing madly off the walls before finally exploding in midair, sending a shower of sparks raining down on him. Just like the core from the generator; must have been the same technology. Gordon brought the crossbow around, took aim, and fired. He saw the glowing projectile shoot past the Combine soldier's head and lodge itself in the roof of the building.

"Crap."

The soldier in question fired another orb. Dropping the crossbow, Gordon whirled the Gravity Gun around in front of him and fired the secondary trigger. The bolt of energy deflected the orb back on the exact same trajectory, and both soldiers ducked as a result. Gordon scooped up three bars with the crossbow and rapidly clambered up the ladder. The orb was still bouncing, and Gordon ran down the walkway, heading for the next ladder, the one that would take him to the walkway that wove itself directly below his attackers.

The orb finally exploded above the soldiers, raining sparks on them just as Gordon was up the ladder. They opened fire with regular bullets as he ran to where the walkways crossed over, and he finally dived to reach it, hurriedly slamming the metal bar down onto the crowbar. When it began to glow, Gordon fired the bar into the walkway that overshadowed him, and heard a grunt, however garbled by the Combine radio.

A pair of angry boots landed in front of him, and Gordon brought up the now empty crossbow in an equally empty gesture. The soldier batted it out of the way with his rifle, following it with an elbow to the chin. Gordon stumbled back and brought out the crowbar, swinging it around towards the soldier's head. He blocked it easily with his arm, quickly grabbing the crowbar away from him and tossing it over his head.

Gordon grabbed the soldier's rifle. The soldier delivered a kick to his gut that winded him and sent him onto his back. The soldier took aim to deliver one, simple bullet. Moving as quickly as he could, Gordon latched on to the rifle and pointed the muzzle into the metal floor. There was only one button on the pulse rifles he had never tried before. Time to find out what it was.

He pressed it.

One of those orbs of light tried to exit the rifle, the blowback sending the soldier slamming into the walkway above them. As he tumbled down, the now free orb bounced back up to meet him, and he disappeared in that strange white, blurring effect he had seen earlier, during the fight at the generator.

Gordon picked up the crossbow and applied one of the bars, then scooped up his crowbar. He climbed up onto the walkway above. There, he found the second soldier, foot impaled into the walkway by the bar he had fired earlier. He brought his rifle around, which Gordon batted away with the butt of the crossbow. It tumbled over the edge and into the abyss below. Using the crowbar, he tore the belt of grenades from around the soldier's waist.

"You've killed a lot of people today," he said quietly, not just meaning those who had crossed this particular soldier's path. He was talking to the Combine, not just one man. "This is what happens."

He pulled the pins on the grenades. He then placed the belt at the end of the crossbow, tearing the fabric on the very edge of the burning metal bar. Aiming for the soldier's other leg, he fired, impaling him to the walkway, the grenade belt attached.

Gordon leapt onto the walkway below. He tossed the crossbow over the edge as he walked, not even flinching when the explosion went off. He found his way onto the balcony with ease, and proceeded through the double doors at the end of the turquoise-tinted corridor.

Alyx was right. He didn't need to be the One Free Man. He just needed to be Gordon Freeman.

And Gordon Freeman was angry.

* * *

(A/N: Hey, sorry about the long wait, folks. Hope you enjoy this chapter, we're really on the home stretch now. If you have an extra moment or two, I'd advise you to check out 'Sidelines' as well, a joint project between me and BlindAcquiescence that was put on hold quite a few months ago but is now back. Hopefully you guys and gals will enjoy it as much as you've enjoyed our other stories.

Anyway, reviews please!)


	13. Follow Freeman'

Disclaimer: I don't own _Half-Life._

_**Welcome to City 17**_

_**Chapter Thirteen: "Follow Freeman!"**_

The doors opened up into a slightly less bleak corridor, helped immeasurably by the windows at the end allowing the sunlight to stream through, albeit filtered by filth and grime on the surface. There was a doorway at the far end where a rebel waited for him, his goatee beard a suspicious approximation of Gordon's.

"Doctor Freeman! Barney said you were on the way."

His ears perked up at hearing a familiar name. "Where is he?"

"We got split up by snipers. He's pinned down in a warehouse up ahead. He was going for a cache of grenades, but I doubt he can get to them now."

He let out a thoughtful 'Mmm', wandering past the rebel and into the room beyond. Another window gave a view of a street that stretched out into the distance. The buildings themselves presented enough stairwells and outcropping walls that he would be able to use as cover.

"Which building?"

"Far left, just before the Combine gate. The door should be open from when Barney and I went in."

He nodded. Sounded reasonable enough. As reasonable as being shot at by snipers _could _be.

"Are you coming?" Gordon asked, apprehensive.

"With snipers out there? Hell, no. Sorry doc, but one person has more chance of going unnoticed than two, you know what I mean?"

Trying to hide how pleased he was by this behind a neutral expression, Gordon just nodded. He went to the door, stopped, took a breath, and stormed through, charging for an old car that had been left askew in the street. No gunfire so far.

Lying on his front, Gordon surveyed the street from the beneath the vehicle. Further up the street, diagonally across from him was a stairwell going underground to the entrance of a building. Like that sitcom about a bar Barney had shown him.

He hoped his friend wasn't dead.

He charged again, sprinting madly and trying to accommodate for the Gravity Gun bouncing against the back of his thighs. This time a bullet shot out, hitting the wall behind where his head would have been a moment earlier had he not dived for cover. Gordon looked at the hole, and glanced up the street.

Part of the wall quite a bit up the street from him jutted out like a chimney. It was almost parallel to the open door that would take him up to Barney.

With a shrug that only he would ever know about, Gordon started running, putting his arm up in front of his head. Hopefully the HEV suit would absorb most of the impact. Although he had his doubts about how much more it could take; he had taken a lot of punishment back at the generator.

Those depressing thoughts were wiped from his mind as the bullet hit him in the belly, tossing him backwards and rolling along the road, kicking up a surprising amount of dust as he went. The pain was ludicrous, reminding him of the bullets from a gunship.

Trying his best to blank it out, Gordon rolled over and to his feet, doing a strange mix of a sprint and a stumble to his new piece of cover. Once he was there he pressed his back to the wall, gasping for breath and relief from the pain. The HEV suit was dealing with it quite cheerfully, which made him feel a little better.

Gordon looked at the doorway opposite, unable to see much of anything inside. Just shadows and murky blue light coming from somewhere inside. It always seemed to be murky light with him. Gordon wanted once, just once, to have some bright, clear indoor lighting.

He waited for the pain to subside just a little before dashing out and then back again. The sniper fired, and then Gordon ran, the two events almost simultaneous. He leapt once he was close enough, skidding and rolling into the darkened building. Another gunshot rang out, far too late.

He activated the flashlight to better see what was ahead of him. An empty warehouse, just as promised. Some doors on the far side of the room probably led to a stairwell. Gordon went through and walked up, becoming more and more wary of enemy fire as the walls seemed to disappear, making way for the open air.

Eventually he reached the top, although he was fairly certain it wasn't always that way when the building was complete. Opening the doors and stepping through the now fairly obsolete doorway, Gordon took in the obstacle course ahead of him.

The entire top of the building had been stripped away, leaving only the bare skeleton. Debris from whatever had struck the building lay all across the floor in front of him, providing plenty of cover. Peeking around the open door that swung next him, Gordon could see buildings covering his left and straight ahead of him. Blackened windows galore for snipers to hide in.

Gordon cautiously got down to his hands and feet, crawling along the floor and moving to what remained of the wall. It provided a rim of sorts that ran to the other side of the building, and hopefully would keep him safe. As he went, he saw zombies and headcrabs laying dead on the other side of the room, blood plastered to the wall from where the snipers had used them as target practice.

He reached the halfway point and saw a doorway leading up to the skeletal floor above. Directly in the line of sniper fire. Also in their line of sight was a green crate with a grenade label plastered on the front.

That would be the grenade cache.

"Over here!"

The voice made him duck his head, and he looked around rather frantically.

"Up, Gordon, up!"

Looking skywards, he saw Barney, squatting on a ledge looking down at him.

"I can't move, these snipers got me pinned down!"

A gunshot rang out to punctuate the point, chipping away at the decaying chunk of wall Barney was clumped behind.

"Gordon, take out these snipers, would ya?"

Gordon blinked. "Uh, right. Take out snipers, sure. Easy."

"Gordon? _Grenades?"_

The condescending tone prickled Gordon a little bit, and he scowled. "Where am I supposed to throw them, Barney?"

"Look for the blue lasers."

He took a moment to think about it. After Ravenholm, he had spotted blue lasers coming from snipers in bridges above him. He hadn't seen them while he was running for the building, but on the other hand, he wasn't really concentrating on finding them.

"Oh. Blue lasers, right…"

Barney's sigh just spurred him on, although he struggled to see how he would reach the grenade cache without being shot. A lot.

His foot clanked against a toppled metal filing cabinet. Gordon shoved it away irritably before looking back to the green box with a spark in his eye. He swung the Gravity Gun around and pulled the cabinet to him, then turned to face the snipers. Well, most of them, anyway. He couldn't be sure if he was covering himself from all of them.

The bullets yanked the cabinet from the Gravity Gun's grip, and it took some fancy controlling of the device to grab it before he was too exposed. Eventually he was backed up to the cache, and he grabbed as many as he could tuck under one arm, which ended up being about four.

"Are there more than four?"

"More than f- how the hell should I know, Gordon? I've got cramp in my legs, I've been hiding here for so long! Just throw a few grenades, that'll flush 'em out!"

Gordon moved back to the other side of the room and peered over the rim. He spotted one of the blue lasers in a window and ducked back down again. It was only then that Gordon remembered he had a terrible throwing arm, and even with the best luck in the world he wouldn't be able to reach the other side of the street.

Once more, the Gravity Gun made him smile. He placed it in front of the Gravity Gun, pulled the pin, and then spun around, standing at the same time. Gordon fired it directly into the window before hiding back down again. It took only a few seconds for it to explode.

Finding the others wasn't difficult, just time consuming. Once he found the lasers, he had to hide and gradually crawl to a spot the sniper wasn't concentrating on so he could fire the grenade unmolested.

As it turned out, there were three. Two on his side of the building, and a third behind Barney. Gordon didn't mention this fact when Barney came down the stairs, looking more than a little weary.

"All right, thanks Gordon," he breathed. That said, he smiled. "Good to see ya, by the way."

"You too."

"How's it goin'?"

"Oh, you know, the usual for me. Killing soldiers, fighting aliens. Calling women 'bitch', apparently."

Barney grinned, seemingly uncontrollably. "You heard about that, huh?"

"Yes," he said quietly. "Thank you for that."

A friendly clap on the arm was the only response he got before Barney nodded to the open wall behind Gordon. "Let's clear out of here."

Barney ran to a ledge on the other side of the building and promptly hopped over it, giving Gordon a terrifying jolt as he pursued. Reaching the ledge, he found Barney stood pretty much just in front of him, standing on the wreckage of the building, spilling out of the floors beneath them like an overstuffed closet.

He followed him down to the street below, which stretched off to the right and was blocked on the left by a Combine barrier. Barney went to the control booth beside the barrier and began tapping away on the keyboard.

"Let me get this gate. My Civil Protection status still gives me clearance."

Gordon nodded and looked up and down the street.

"Did you hear a cat just now?"

Turning back, Gordon saw Barney scanning the area, particularly the floor.

"What?"

"A cat. Y'know, whiskers, claws… meow?"

"Uh, no. No cat."

Looking thoroughly unconvinced, Barney cast an unsure look around the street before returning to the console.

"Damn thing haunts me…" he muttered, before a green light blinked on atop the gate, and the doors roared open.

With a nod of his head, Barney led the way, which Gordon found quite refreshing after having an entire squad looking to him for answers. Looking to him… and all of them dead. And now Alyx was with them. Who knew what was happening to her right now?

He followed Barney through a doorway and into the cramped lobby of an apartment building.

"Watch the headhumpers, Gordon!"

"The-"

Gunfire interrupted him, and he dove to the ground, watching a headcrab explode in a cloud of green blood, the remains flopping to the floor beside him.

"Gotta be more careful, Gordon."

Feeling like an amateur, Gordon nodded, unable to catch his breath. He needed to stop thinking about what had happened. Get over it, push forward.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right…" he murmured, pushing himself to his feet and yanking the crowbar from his side. "Let's go."

Barney smiled as they started walking. "You still got that, huh?"

Gordon did a little swing with the crowbar. "I like it. Doesn't run out of ammunition."

"Yeah, well, don't go losin' it. I held onto that for twenty years."

The thought of Barney being twenty years older than him blocked out any response he might have had.

Barney watched him carefully, head tilting to the side. "You okay, Gordon?"

"Fine," he said a little too quickly, his pace quickening as they came to a doorway leading into a grassy courtyard between buildings. Barney grabbed his arm and yanked him back, pointing to some doors opposite.

A red light flashed, coming from a black device attached to the door handle. As Gordon watched, the flashing became quicker, accompanied by a beep each time. Finally, the light and the beep were almost continuous.

Then the doors exploded off their hinges, and five soldiers burst through.

Barney opened fire, ducking behind the other side of the doorway. Frustrated as he watched his friend amid all the violence, Gordon jammed the crowbar away. He risked a quick glance out into the courtyard and spotted a Hopper.

He grabbed the Gravity Gun and yanked the Hopper to him, drawing a cautious look from Barney. Gordon fired it into the soldiers, hitting the second one from the right. Soldiers on either side of him were flung in opposite directions while the soldier himself was blown apart.

Barney whooped and laughed, and Gordon looked at him. He was _laughing _at this? Like it was fun? Gordon could admit that he had the occasional grim humour moment, but this… Barney looked like he was out for a day at the park.

The two remaining soldiers scrambled to their feet and re-opened fire. Hidden away from the gunfire, Barney winked at Gordon from the other side of the doorway.

"Any other tricks?"

Gordon shrugged. "I'm all out."

More gunfire erupted, and at first Gordon thought that more soldiers were joining the fight. But then, just as quickly, the shooting stopped.

All he got from Barney was a shrug, so Gordon inched his way towards the edge of the doorway.

"Anyone here?" a gruff voice sounded out.

It was a rebel. Three rebels, to be exact. A greying man with a thin beard who looked about a decade older than Barney, a small girl with sandy hair barely contained by her wool hat, and a young medic built like a tank and with about as much personality in his features.

Barney emerged before Gordon did, smiling. "Hey, Doberman. Good to see ya."

The older man returned the smile. "Barney. We were told you were pinned down by snipers…"

He spotted Gordon as he finished the sentence, the words dying in his throat. Doberman and the girl glanced at Barney, who just nodded with a satisfied smile. They promptly rushed over to him, Doberman with his hand thrust out in front of him.

"Gordon Freeman. It's an honour to meet you in person."

"Right, um… you too," Gordon said, his whole body rippling from the vigorous handshake before he finally managed to wrest his hand free.

The girl was grinning inanely. "Did you know my mom?"

"I'm…" he glanced to Barney before looking back to the girl. "I'm sorry?"

"My mom. She was at Black Mesa. She said she met you."

"Oh. What's her name?"

"Diane Carver? I'm Amanda, by the way." Her hand jabbed out and hit him in the chest. The look on her face made it seem as if she had just accidentally shot him.

"Oh God, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that-"

"That's okay, really-"

"But you're Gordon Freeman, and I just hit you in the chest-"

"It's fine, it's-"

Doberman finally had mercy on him and put a steadying hand on Amanda's shoulder. "Don't worry, Amanda. I don't think your hand hurt him. He's got that fancy suit to protect him."

This elicited a snort from tank-medic, but it seemed as if Gordon was the only one who noticed.

She nodded, blinked, and then asked Gordon again. "So did you know my mom?"

Gordon was a bit taken aback. He had met some disturbed people over the past few days of his life, but this was the first crazy person who was supposed to be on his side. He thought about some of the faces from Black Mesa. He thought of Father Grigori. Then he looked at Amanda's mousey features, big eyes blinking up at him innocently.

Actually, Amanda was remarkably sane.

"Um… Diane Carver, you said?"

"Uh-huh."

"I, uh… don't think…" he looked to Barney unsurely, who shook his head as quickly and discreetly as he could, eyes wide.

Gordon whipped his head back to Amanda. "Yes, Diane, of course. She was great."

The tremendous grin that broke over Amanda's face confirmed he had made the right choice. "I knew it! She told me every night that she knew you, that you worked together. She said you were coming back to save us, she said so!"

"Well…" he forced his arms out to either side of him. "…here I am."

She let out a little squeal of delight, looking up to Doberman for support. He just smiled kindly and nodded.

Barney walked over to him, (finally) breaking up the introductions. He hooked a thumb over his shoulder, pointing to tank-medic. "That's Chuck."

Chuck grunted and nodded. Gordon did the same, minus the grunt.

"Okay, introductions over, let's get on with it. I'm guessin' you guys have got a route?"

Doberman nodded. "It's a _bad _route, but we've got one."

For whatever reason, this elicited a smirk from Barney. "Not inspirin' me with confidence here, Doberman."

He spoke exclusively to Gordon next, everyone else seemingly up to speed on what was to come.

"There's an old building up ahead, a bank or museum or somethin' like that. Whatever the hell it used to be, now it's a Nexus for Overwatch in City 17. It's the main source of pain for this part of town, thanks to a huge suppression device that's rainin' down hell from the roof of that place. Now before we move on to the big push, it's our job to get in there and shut that thing down however we can. Got it?"

Gordon walked to the one of the Combine bodies and picked up his pulse rifle. He had been distracted before. He had allowed himself to get sidetracked, to linger on what had happened to Tess and Greg and Simon and Dave and Alyx and all the others.

Everyone else was suffering losses. Every minute of every day, as long as this went on, as long as the Combine remained. But the survivors got over it. They moved on. Just as they'd been doing for the past twenty years.

He nodded, resolute. "Got it."

Barney smiled. "Now _that's_ the Gordon Freeman I've been talking about for the last twenty years."

Doberman led the way through the corridors of the building, stepping over the dead Combine soldiers left by Doberman's squad. They passed a few fallen rebels in solemn silence.

They eventually ascended up some stairs leading to a corridor, large windows revealing an expansive courtyard area in front of them. Four grassy areas were separated by a crossroads of footpaths. A decoration, something nice to look at for the visitors going to the… bank, museum… as Barney implied, it was difficult to tell. It was certainly grandiose.

Crouching down beneath the window, Barney peered over the top, gesturing with a nod of his head for Gordon to join him.

"There it is; the Overwatch Nexus."

Flying troop transports dropped off a disheartening amount of soldiers. They split off like fireworks, heading for the nearby buildings and bunkers dotted around the place.

"Looks like they're mobilising big time," he murmured distractedly before talking to Gordon again. "You can sorta see the gate from here, I'll show you when we get to street level. We'll have to get in that building to open the gate. Even then, the suppression device will, uh…" he paused, then shrugged with a smile, "…suppress anyone coming through unless _we_ shut it down."

Gordon nodded his understanding, and Barney looked to the new squad. "Okay, everybody, take five before we move out."

Amanda was sat on the stairs, distracted talking to Doberman while Chuck stood beside them, checking his rifle.

Barney seemed to notice where he was looking, and nudged him in the elbow. "Thanks for Amanda, by the way."

"Yeah, well… not sure why she'd _want _her mother to be in Black Mesa."

Inspecting his pulse rifle, Barney shrugged. "Hope helps people get by. Maybe the stories were for Amanda's benefit, or maybe her mom told them to make herself feel better. She wasn't the only one."

"That reminds me," Gordon said, taking his eyes off the trio on the stairs, "'I'm Gordon Freeman, bitch'?"

After a moment frozen, Barney grinned. "You heard that one, huh?"

"Yeah, I heard that one. When have I _ever _said 'bitch'?"

"That's what makes it funny, Gordon. And I was the guy with the crowbar for twenty years, I could tell them anythin' I wanted about Black Mesa. Be glad it was just that."

"What about my motorcycle riding back-flipping brother?"

"Hey, don't look at me, I've got _no _idea where that one came from." An unforgivably goofy grin spread across his face. "It _is_ a good one though. You should listen to it sometime."

They were silent for a few moments while Barney finished up doing… something efficient and complicated with his gun.

"You heard from Alyx? Last I heard she was settin' off to meet ya."

Gordon froze, wondering why it hadn't occurred to him that Barney wouldn't know about Alyx. Hell, he was probably the only one who _did _know.

"Uh… Alyx, was…" He throat went dry, and he swallowed. "The Combine took her."

"Took her?" Barney stopped, his panic replace by a troubled frown. "Not killed?"

"No, I… don't think so, I couldn't see properly. It looked like they hit her over the head, and then…"

"And then?"

"And then… I left."

He was expecting an outburst there, an insulting, derisive, angry scolding, calling him a coward, a wimp, a self-serving… something or other, Gordon was never very good with insults.

But instead, Barney just slumped back against the wall, eyes glassy and staring off into space. Then he blinked and jumped back to life, shifting to his feet.

"We've gotta get to her. I figured Eli was safe because of his brain and who he is to the Resistance, but Alyx…"

He didn't bother finishing the sentence, instead tilting his head to the others. "Okay people, we're movin' out. And remember, stealth. If we can make it even halfway to that place without settin' off any alarms we'll be better off."

Gordon got to his feet, struggling to keep up with Barney as he led the way down the corridor and through the doors. They went down some stairs, heading for street level.

"Barney, what's going to happen to Alyx?"

"We're gonna find her and rescue her, Gordon. Doesn't matter what those bastards are _planning_ to do."

"Which is what?"

"Gordon-"

"Barney. What is going to happen to Alyx?"

They had reached the bottom of the steps, standing at street level. Blocking off the entire road on the left was another Combine gate, except without any convenient control booth to get it open.

Barney stared at him for the longest time before nodding at the metal structure. "There's that gate I was telling you about. We'll have to come back here after we get it open. _If_ we get it open."

A frustrated breath escaped him, but Gordon pushed back any further attempts to talk until later. If Barney didn't want to talk about it, Gordon probably didn't want to know.

Barney led the way, taking one step out into the street.

Alarms sounded, and Barney's head dropped with a sigh.

"So much for stealth," he muttered, before following it up with a much louder and clearer, "We've been spotted people, let's move, move, move!"

And off they went, running as quickly as the debris around them would allow. On the roof of the building, Gordon could see a thick beam of white light blasting up into the grey clouds. A pool of light faded into existence around them, coming from above.

"Move your asses, people!" Barney screamed, his voice drowning against the thunder coming down on them.

Gordon ran, as did the others. A boom shook the ground, and Gordon allowed a glance over his shoulder to see a sizeable crater in the ground where they once were, the wrecked car he had passed literally torn in half. Probably best not to get caught by the suppression device, then.

Their route took them into a bunker just down the road. It would have been a twenty second sprint if not for the sporadic blasts coming from the suppression device. Gordon managed to stay ahead of the attacks though, either hanging back until the blast had gone off or leaping for dear life as the impact hit just behind him.

Chuck seemed to be the one with the most experience with these things, keeping everyone organised and safe as they leapt from cover to cover. He seemed to do so with barely a word, which Gordon found quite admirable. He couldn't imagine going through these events and saying nothing; he'd probably go a little insane.

This thought wasn't dissuaded by Chuck's reaction to the Combine soldiers sent to delay their advance across the courtyard. The man roared like a man possessed, using minimal cover and charging like a rhino towards them as he fired almost continuously. The fact that they were still outdoors and under the close eye of the suppression device didn't seem to bother him. In fact, it just seemed to make him angrier.

They rested when they reached a halfway point of sorts, what looked like an armoury. Gordon had never seen so many weapons in one place. Except, perhaps, when he was preparing to jump to Xen from the Lambda Core. There had been a lot of guns there.

Gordon watched Chuck carefully as he browsed through the weapons like a casual shopper, checking different weapons for heft and sight. After picking up a belt of grenades and wrapping it across his chest, Gordon moved up next to Barney, who had taken his hands out of his gloves and was flexing them with an unusual level of concentration.

"I haven't seen my hands two days, Gordon. That's how long I've been runnin' around this place."

"That's a… long time," he replied, not really listening. "Is Chuck all right?"

Barney shook his head, eyes still on his hands. "A man gets sweaty hands after two days…"

"Barney."

"Huh?"

"Chuck."

"Yeah?"

"Is he okay?"

"Is he-? Oh, he's fine," Barney said, waving a hand before reluctantly thrusting it back into the creaking glove.

"He just seems-"

"Gordon. He's fine." He picked up another pulse rifle from a rack on the wall beside him looked it over. "As fine as you can be in this place, anyway… okay people, let's keep on movin'."

The armoury was just opposite the grand staircase that would have been the main entrance to the building. A horde of soldiers spilling out made them reconsider this option, however, and Gordon ended up using half of his grenades clearing the herd enough for Chuck to finish the rest with his usual finesse.

Moving quickly, Doberman led them around the back to an alleyway blocked off by a force field. They stopped at it, Barney staring up at it in annoyance and Doberman in panic. Amanda and Chuck were covering them from behind.

"This wasn't here before," Doberman said quickly. "I mean, I didn't see it from our recon position."

"Things change," Barney muttered, then looking to Gordon. "Any ideas?"

Up to that point, Gordon had been on lookout like Chuck and Amanda. He did a double-take when he realised Barney was talking to him.

"Me?"

"Yeah, you, Gordon."

"I don't know. How would I know?"

"Gordon," Barney said, "you broke into Nova Prospekt. Everyone else who tried that is dead. You escaped Black Mesa. There are about half a dozen people on the planet who managed that. This?"

He waved a hand at the force field buzzing patiently in their way.

"_This_ is a piece of cake. Chocolate cake, with frosting. And I know how much you like frosting."

Gordon took a breath, looking the force-field up and down, and checking on the other side for anything he could use. He spotted what he needed, tucked his rifle under his arm, and brought the Gravity Gun around. Just before he started, he looked at Barney.

"Does chocolate even exist anymore?"

A heavy sigh escaped the ex-security guard. "The last bit of chocolate I saw was a cake that Eli kept in the freezer for Alyx's twenty-first. Combine took the rest."

He pressed the trigger on the Gravity Gun, and pulled the power cable on the other side from its' socket. The force field sputtered and flickered away, and the others piled on through.

"Even Snickers?"

Barney smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "Just one more reason to kick Breen's ass, Gordon."

Once inside, Gordon was struck by how big the place was. Of course, the front of the building had been huge, but this was a maze within a maze. Navigating through the corridors, they eventually came to an expansive lobby which looked more akin to a mansion than any kind of museum or bank. Stairs straight on from the main entrance led up and off to the left and right, leading to rooms and corridors on either side.

There was another corridor, flat and long and just past the bottom of the stairs. A force field blocked the way.

Something groaned overhead, metallic and angry. Barney's gaze travelled up as a shadow passed over the dirty windows overlooking the stairs.

"Uh-oh. Dropships. They'll be headin' for the roof."

Gordon moved to the force field and tried his best to see inside, looking for another power cable or terminal he could abuse with the Gravity Gun. Nothing seemed apparent. He looked back to Barney and shook his head.

"Okay," Barney announced, rifle resting on his shoulder. "If we want to get through that shield we'll have to take down the generator. There should be another one for the suppressor on the roof. Gordon and I will take that one. You three find the generator for the force fields."

Doberman gave a little salute, and Amanda just nodded. They headed up the stairs and off to the right. Chuck stayed behind for a moment to hand Barney a vial of green liquid, much the same as Gordon had seen Cara using. He did his best to ignore the twang in his chest when he thought of her face.

Ignoring Gordon for the most part, Chuck thundered off after Doberman and Amanda. There was another groan from above, this one shaking the building.

"Man, Overwatch _owns _the roof." Barney sighed, suddenly looking about five times as tired as he did before. "And that's where we're headed."

"Story of my life."

Barney smiled, then looked up to the balcony above Gordon's head. "The generator we're after is this way. They're not gonna be too happy with us once we shut it down, so get ready for a fight."

As they ascended the stairs, Gordon noticed Barney watching him curiously. When the scientist gave him a questioning eyebrow, he just nudged him in the elbow.

"I've never seen you fight before. I mean, except for that time Magnusson came at you with a spoon for what you did to his casserole."

"Yes, _please_ remind me of more embarrassing times at Black Mesa."

"I'm just curious, is all. It's gonna be weird seeing you shooting and running and fighting, y'know?"

Gordon couldn't help but agree. "Yeah. I know."

The generator room itself wasn't guarded, which seemed to worry Barney instead of relieve him. It was pretty bare, all dull greys and cool blues. Inert Hoppers lay on shelves on the far wall. There was only once entrance. In the centre of the room stood a Combine power core just like the one Gordon's squad had died defending. He assumed it was disposed of in the same way. Gordon brought the Gravity Gun around and aimed it at the pulsating, whirling ball of light.

He paused for a moment. "You might want to duck."

Barney looked confused for a moment, but then noted the power core. "Good call," he said, tipping over a metal table and crouching down behind it.

Gordon fired and followed suit, huddling down with Barney as it bounced around over their heads. It finally exploded with a shower of sparks and a fairly lingering bang, his ears ringing from the noise.

Wasting no time, Barney was on his feet in an instant. "Okay, done. Let's-"

Alarms sounded, and a previously unseen metal door clanged into the place in the doorway. Barney ran his hands over its surface in a fairly pointless gesture. After a quick pause, he put his ear to the metal.

"I can hear soldiers."

"What are they doing?"

Barney went to the table and moved it across the room so it was in the corner. "They're gettin' ready to come in."

His gaze bounced back and forth from Barney to the door a few times. "W- ah."

"Yeah."

"We'll be pretty vulnerable."

"Yeah."

"How vulnerable?"

"Gordon, if there were some ducks sat right there in a barrel the middle of the room, they'd have a better chance than us."

"That's pretty-" his words died in the throat when he looked at the Hoppers.

"Barney, those ducks…"

"Yeah?"

"They wouldn't have Hoppers, would they?"

The ex-security guard looked at him like he was a little crazy before he followed Gordon's eye line and grinned.

Barney slapped him on the arm. "If this is how you fight, I like it," he said, excitedly moving to the shelves and grabbing a Hopper.

It only took them a few minutes to put the six Hoppers in the places they would do the most damage. Gordon kept the sixth Hopper with him behind the table so he would be able to fire it at any soldiers who managed to make it through. Once done, they crouched next to each other, peering over the edge, intent eyes on the door.

"Remember when we thought Black Mesa was as bad as it could get?" Barney asked wistfully.

"Those were the days," Gordon sighed.

A Combine radio squawked from outside, and there was a long, painful pause as they waited for something to happen. Nothing.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Gordon glanced in his direction, but didn't look at him. "Okay."

"How did you get out of Black Mesa?"

Gordon didn't reply right away, thinking about his words very carefully. No-one so far knew anything about Him, or how He fit into any of these events. He had almost caved to Eli back at Black Mesa East, but something had held him back. Fear, maybe. Whether that was fear of Him or fear of realising that no-one would be able to help him, Gordon didn't know. He just knew that he wasn't going to tell anyone about the Man in the suit just yet. Not until he found out more for himself.

"I went through a portal."

"Oh. Ditto."

Gordon looked at him curiously. "Really?"

"Yeah. Met a bunch of scientists who had worked on the prototype."

"Who?"

"Rosenberg, Simmons and Bennett. You know them?"

"Not personally."

"Yeah, well, they got the prototype workin', and off we went." He found some imaginary stain on his rifle to rub. "I, uh… saw you."

"At… Black Mesa?"

"Yeah. I jumped through the portal, but I think the military blew it up as I went through. I ended up bouncin' all over the place, mostly just a bunch of deserted alien stuff. But then I was in a storage closet, and… there you were, bein' dragged by some soldiers talkin' about gettin' rid of your body. But before I could do anythin' I was in a parking lot with Rosenberg and the others."

He was silent for a moment.

"I almost went back in for ya, but they convinced me not to." He continued to stare at the door. "Spent a lot of nights thinkin' I shouldn't have listened to 'em."

A little unsettled seeing his friend like this, he put a supportive hand on his shoulder. "If you had, you'd be dead."

Barney took a sobering breath. "Yeah… and it looks like you got out okay, so… everyone gets a happy ending."

Another Combine radio conversation crackled outside.

"Well," Barney mumbled, "kinda happy."

Nothing came of the Combine mutterings, though Gordon didn't allow himself the opportunity to relax.

"What happened to them?"

"Huh?"

"Rosenberg and the others."

"Uh…" Barney still wasn't looking at him, instead focusing on some dirt on his knee. "Rosenberg's okay. He's helpin' out where he can, y'know. Big brains are useful nowadays."

"What about Simmons and Bennett?"

"Simmons, uh… died. During the first portal storms."

Gordon was tempted to ask what a portal storm was, but settled for a quiet, "I'm sorry."

Barney shrugged. "Shit happens."

"And… Bennett?"

The ex-security guard didn't reply, instead raising himself up to look at a Hopper close to the door. "Is that Hopper armed?"

"Barney. What happened to Bennett?"

After staring ahead blankly for a few moments, Barney sighed and went to checking his rifle once more.

"Do you know what Stalkers are, Gordon?"

For a moment Gordon considered a dry retort, but knew it wasn't the right time for it. Barney was talking about something specific, something to do with the Combine. He settled for shaking his head.

Barney nodded. "Good."

Gordon decided not to press the matter any further. He wished that Alyx were there so he could ask, maybe get some support and a little patient tutoring on the little things of this world that he knew nothing about. He wished that Alyx were there so that she would _be there _and not in some Combine stronghold having something done to her that was so horrible Barney didn't even want to talk about it.

"Where've you been, Gordon?"

He blinked, not sure if Barney had spoken. When he looked over, though, he saw that Barney was staring right at him.

"Hm?"

"Where've you been?"

"Uh… what do you mean?"

"I mean…" Barney visibly pushed something down, something frustrated and angry and probably loud. "…these past twenty years. Last I hear you kill some huge, end-of-the-world monster, then… nothin'._ Nothin' _for twenty years. And then bam. You're here. Looking exactly the same as you did at Black Mesa. And Gordon, those were some long years, buddy. I've…"

His eyes went glassy, and suddenly Barney looked fragile, in an unsettling way that Gordon has never seen before, as if he might collapse at any moment.

"…I've done some bad stuff, Gordon. Stuff that I had to do, and I knew that, but… still doesn't stop it from makin' a mark. And we'd been told that you were comin' back, that you'd make it right again, so we held out. We held out for twenty years waitin' for you."

"Who told you I was coming back?"

"The Vorts. The Freeman this, the Freeman that… it gave us hope, y'know? Everyone thought you'd have this big plan, that you'd been gettin' ready in hidin' all this time…"

"Barney, I-"

"I mean, that would make it all worth it, y'know? That would mean that all the stuff I did… that we _all _had to do…it wasn't for nothin'. But, instead you're just… here. And you don't seem to know about anythin' around here. So tell me, Gordon. Please. Tell me where _the hell _you've been."

His throat felt dry, and he swallowed loudly. Eli had been encouraging, Kleiner barely acknowledged he was ever gone, and Alyx didn't seem to care. But Barney… he felt betrayed. Angry. And he wasn't going to let it go.

He sighed. "I don't know."

"What?"

"I don't know. One moment, it was twenty minutes ago, the next… I was on that train heading for City 17."

The lines around Barney's eyes tensed for a few moments, and then suddenly disappeared. "Like what happened to you and Alyx."

"I, uh… what?"

"You and Alyx, at Nova Prospekt. I talked to her when she dropped off Kleiner at the safe house, while you were in the city. She said that you were in Nova Prospekt, in the teleporter, and then suddenly it was a week later. It's the same thing, right? Just… instead of a week, it's twenty years."

Never mind the fact that a man in a suit put him in the portal and appeared to him in visions, or the fact that he was wearing his HEV suit when he went into the portal, but had City 17 civvies wrapped around him when he came out.

Gordon nodded. "Yeah. Same thing."

"Well damn," Barney said, smiling. "That was some pretty smart shit, comin' from me. But Jesus, Gordon. How confused you must have been, huh? Why didn't you just say something, ask some questions- oh, you're you, never mind."

Though he was ready to retort, Gordon was interrupted by a beep. Just one. Then two more. Then three.

"Get ready," Barney grunted, sliding down behind the table.

Gordon did the same as the beeps became faster and faster, eventually becoming one continuous tone.

Then the door blew. Soldiers spilled in through the smoke. Hoppers jumped in the air, setting off one another, the force of the blasts pushing the table back on them. There was a lot of smoke. Barney tapped him on the shoulder and nodded towards the door.

Gordon repeated the gesture before grabbing the final Hopper with the Gravity Gun. Three more soldiers tried to come through the door, and Gordon fired it, blasting them all away.

Moving together towards the doorway, Gordon and Barney stumbled over all the bodies as they reached the corridor. Gunfire came at them from the left. On the right, the corridor led to a metal wall. No help there.

Gordon jumped to the other side of the corridor, taking cover behind a pillar. The soldiers had set themselves at the end of the corridor, where it joined the balcony overlooking the grand lobby. There were only three, but he was sure that number would increase soon. There was gunfire coming from behind the soldiers as well, and one of them was facing the other way, presumably firing on Doberman and the others down below.

He looked at Barney, who was smirking away.

"Just like old times, eh Gordon?" he shouted, his voice nearly drowned out by the gunfire.

A bullet exploded against the pillar, showering dust and debris over Gordon and making the side of his face sting.

"When did we _ever_ do this?" he cried, to which Barney just laughed and opened fire.

Blinking the pain away, Gordon yanked out two grenades and pulled the pins. He threw them both down the corridor, and heard the Combine voices panic and order a withdrawal. Gordon got ready, and waited for the explosion before charging up the corridor.

One of the soldiers had been too slow and was blown over railing of the balcony. The other two had managed to avoid the blast and were waiting around the corner, moving out in front and clearly not expecting him to be there. He smashed the butt of the rifle through the mask of one and charged headlong into another, pushing him into the guardrail.

Gordon backed up and shot a hole through his head. The other soldier had recovered from the blow and took aim, only to be taken out by Barney.

After a grateful nod, they both ducked down, taking cover from the Combine soldiers below. Through the bars of the guardrail, Gordon could see Doberman and Amanda crouched behind one piece of rubble next to the stairs, and Chuck behind a pillar beside the door.

Huh. Gordon didn't think Chuck took cover. Looking down, he saw the squad of four soldiers that were stood almost beneath them. Two were firing up at them, the others concentrating on Doberman's squad.

"Okay," Barney said, a little breathlessly, "I think if we move slowly we can-"

Gordon backed up the corridor and charged towards the guardrail, leaping off even as Barney cried out.

"Jesus, Gordon-"

One foot on the rail, Gordon pushed off and plummeted straight down, landing on one of the soldiers firing up. He crumpled beneath him, and Gordon threw himself to the left, tumbling onto the next soldier as he fell. Gordon turned it into an awkward roll and ended up face to face with the recovering soldier, who he shot point blank.

Barney fired from above, taking out one of the other two, while a well placed shot from Doberman sent blood bursting out of the second soldier's chest.

Silence descended, only punctuated by the occasional explosion from outside. Looking over to the dark corridor that would take them forward, Gordon saw that the force field was inactive. Mission accomplished. Well, this mini-mission, anyway. There were probably tons of mini-missions left before he got to the finish line.

Barney was by his side faster than Gordon had expected. "Jesus, Gordon, what the hell was that?"

He shrugged. "I needed to get downstairs."

"But… what about… and the…" he looked at him like he was insane. "Is that how you survived in Black Mesa?"

"Uh, no," Gordon said, picking up some more grenades from the fallen soldiers. "In Black Mesa that would have been by accident."

He was expecting more exasperated, amazed observations from Barney, but instead, something strange passed over his friend.

He looked sad. And Gordon knew why.

"You've got pretty good at this, huh?"

Gordon nodded. "I've had to."

A resigned smile emerged on Barney's face. "I know the feeling."

Barney seemed ready to move on, when he double-glanced at something on the floor. Or at some_one_. A Combine soldier, a bullet through his head.

"EF73..." he muttered, then looked up, eyes darting between each of them. "Who killed him?"

After an unsure look at the squad, Gordon put a hand up.

Barney nodded, slowly and surely, staring off into the distance. He got to his feet and put a hand on Gordon's shoulder.

"Good job."

And then, suddenly, everything changed.

"Okay, people, to the roof!"

With that, Barney charged off down the corridor, Gordon and the others following on without question.

Was this going to be his life from now on? Even when he was with friends, he ended up fighting and killing. When would he go back to being a scientist, when his biggest concern was what he was going to have for lunch?

Toasted ham and cheese sandwich. Every time.

They turned a corner and hurtled up some stairs before coming to a small room with a huge terminal on the wall. A large metal door loomed behind them, which Barney opened with a quick tap of his fingers across the keyboard.

"I'm gonna stay here and keep these gates open long enough to make a difference," he said, eyes on the screen. "Go on up and connect the Skybridge; we need to let reinforcements come from every possible direction. If any more citizens come through, I'll send 'em up to find ya."

They all nodded, and the squad went up. Gordon stopped at the doorway, and turned back to Barney.

"See you when I see you, Barney."

Barney gave the smallest of salutes. "See you when I see you, Gordon."

Gordon smiled, and then left his friend behind.

There was a lot of noise outside, more than he had been expecting. Rockets whizzed through the air, spiralling like insane birds before exploding against… something, Gordon couldn't see from his current position. Moving to the edge of the roof, Gordon could see over the courtyard, and what the rest of the squad were gawking at.

Craters that looked like they had been left by meteorites littered the courtyard. The building Gordon and Barney had come from was in ruins, and rebels took cover there, firing rockets from relative safety. And their targets were easier to see, too. Striders, something Gordon had only seen from a distance from his time in City 17 thus far.

It was war. Gordon had known it was the moment he had stepped out of Kleiner's lab with Dog, but still… he hadn't seen this level of sustained violence since… well, since Black Mesa. But at Black Mesa he had just been trying to survive the war zone, navigate his way through it.

Here, in City 17… he was a part of it.

A gunship roared overhead.

"We need to get down to street level," Doberman said, pointing a finger at Gordon. "_You _need to get to the horse."

He ran off, leaving Gordon confused and chasing after him. "There's a horse? You mean like Dog?"

The roof was a maze of air conditioners blocking their view as they entered, making it difficult to navigate. A Combine gate blocking their way gave a small clue, however. At first it looked like they were going to have to find another way around, but as soon as Doberman's curious hand touched it, the door sprang to life.

They scrambled back and took cover, except for Chuck who seemed to have a death wish and charged straight into the crowd. Gordon didn't see anything, he just heard screams and gunfire. What the hell was he doing? He was a medic, he shouldn't be putting himself in the line of fire this much.

Gordon rounded the corner and joined the fight, quickly followed by Doberman and Amanda. Chuck had done a lot of the work, but even his psychotic energy struggled to keep a dozen or so soldiers at bay. The element of surprise had been on their side, however, and before long the soldiers were down. The rest of the roof was clear, and Gordon could see the suppression device, now inert without the generator giving it power.

At the far side of the roof, Gordon could see the retracted Skybridge that Barney had been talking about that would take them to the next building. They were across with minimal fuss, a squad of rebels coming over to meet them and take over guard duties on the roof. As he was ushered across the bridge by Doberman, Gordon watched them move to the ledge and open fire on the Striders and soldiers that littered the courtyard below.

The stairs were in varying states of health, but they managed to hop, skip and jump their way down to ground floor, where they were greeted by a rebel hefting a sizeable rocket launcher. His far too young face was aglow.

"Dr. Freeman! Since you shut off the Suppressor and opened the gate, we can really move people through now. The Combine is going to feel the squeeze! We dropped a crate of rockets across the plaza. If you can make it there you can take down the Striders."

Doberman moved in-between them. "No can do. We're escorting Freeman to the horse, right away."

The boy seemed to understand, and nodded. "Okay. We'll do our best to cover you."

They moved on, Gordon's question about the horse ignored yet again. It was a hazardous run back to the gate, with even Chuck seeming reluctant to take on a Strider head-to-head. Rockets shot overhead, sometimes so close his hair blew in the wind. But most of them wound up on target, although the Striders managed to take a lot of punishment.

The gate led them past a now dead Combine blockade to stairs going down into an underground tunnel. They emerged through a collapsing door into a blocked road tunnel, cars littering the place. The left was blocked, collapsed in on itself. To the right, the tunnel opened out into more of City 17. Everything was curiously quiet.

Then the left side of the tunnel exploded, and a Strider clambered through, knees high above its' head as it tried to navigate its' way through the cramped quarters.

Doberman gave him a forceful shove, though he didn't need any encouragement. "Move, move, move!"

He saw the effects of the Strider's blast coming. The sensation of light being pulled away, that odd screeching noise…

A car exploded up into the air beside them, crashing down again as they exited the tunnel and ran into the dilapidated remains of a building on the left. The Strider clambered out of the tunnel, and the street didn't seem an option. So up it was.

The stairs were out, completely destroyed in whatever attack had befallen the building. Gordon managed to find a section of collapsed floor from the level above that created a ramp.

"Over here," he said, though hopefully not loud enough to draw the Strider's attention.

It was.

The Strider crouched down and cried out. Raising its' weapon, it began firing bullets, sounding like a piece of machinery in a factory. One hit Amanda dead centre, not even giving her the chance to scream before blood exploded out of her back, the force of the bullet flinging her across the room and against the wall.

"Keep moving, keep moving," Doberman breathed, although it sounded more like a mantra to himself than commands to Gordon.

Chuck was unmoved by the death, and Gordon wondered, not for the first time, if all was right with his mind.

On the second floor, they managed to huddle beneath a diagonally fallen pillar, and the Strider lost them. Disinterested, it began to wander around the building, presumably keeping an… well, Gordon didn't know if it had an eye, but if it did, it was probably keeping it out for them.

The pillar reached tantalisingly close to a hole in the roof, and Gordon slid around and started climbing. He froze when he heard something ticking. Not regularly, like a clock, but more like…

Turning, he came face to face with one of the Combine's floating cameras. Scanners, Alyx had called them. This one was armoured, so it probably couldn't be dispatched with a simple swing of the crowbar. It clicked, and a blinding flash of light dazzled Gordon. He blinked the stars away as he heard the Strider roar. Its' footsteps moved closer.

"Move, Freeman!" Doberman hissed.

The stars faded, and his vision cleared in time to see the Strider crouching down to see look directly at him.

"All right," Gordon replied irritably, scrambling up to the next floor. The others followed. The Strider blasting away almost blindly, they managed to reach a doorway that took them out of sight of beast and into a dim corridor. The only other door inside was blocked off by wooden planks.

Gordon and Chuck cleared them out of the way while Doberman leaned against the wall, eyes closed and face towards the ceiling.

"Were they close?" Gordon asked quietly, yanking off a piece of wood that had become stuck to the crowbar.

Chuck grunted. "Don't think so. Doesn't help to see someone killed like that, no matter how well you know them."

The piece of wood jumped off the crowbar, and Gordon tossed it away. "I suppose not."

After clearing the wood, they continued their journey to the horse, hopping from one building to the next and eventually emerging into an open wound of a building. Rebels and Combine soldiers popped in and out of every ledge, out of every chunk of debris big enough to hide a person.

Striders blasted away at the buildings, demolishing walls, floors, anything to give the soldiers a clearer shot at their enemies. The soldiers seemed to take an instant liking to him, which was irritating, though understandable. Breen had probably offered some sort of special commendation for the one who managed to either kill him or bring him in. The way they were coming at him seemed to indicate more of the former than the latter, however.

As they reached street level their pace quickened, becoming an almost constant sprint from one location to the other. Strider legs threatened to impale them as they darted across the street, always praying when they reached the other side that the Strider hadn't seen them.

They ducked down the ramp of an underground parking garage to avoid being impaled by a Strider's legs. Peering through, Doberman seemed to think it safe, and nodded for them to follow him.

The parking lot went off to the left before arching back to the right and presumably to the exit ramp, Gordon's view of which was blocked by a wall. Thick pillars and abandoned cars made it difficult to see much of anything up ahead, except for the fact that something was on fire around the corner. Orange light from the flame flickered across the ceiling and walls, providing them with at least some light as they pressed on further into the darkness.

Gordon spotted something. A flash of blue.

He put an arm in front of Chuck, who promptly hissed at the much further ahead Doberman to stop. He was stood in an odd clearing on their right, completely bereft of cars.

Gordon crouched down behind a red car and peered over. There again. Something luminescent blue was moving quickly over there. He looked to Chuck, who nodded his confirmation, and was about to call out to Doberman when he heard something else. Gordon heard it too.

A beeping.

And it was getting faster.

"Where is it?" he said quickly, and Chuck just shrugged, checking frantically under cars.

Doberman was looking at them like they were insane, and started to walk over. Then he froze, and looked down.

Both Gordon and Chuck stopped, and looked at the spot beneath Doberman's feet. A red flashing light, almost continuous now.

Gordon took a step forward, arm outstretched. The floor exploded beneath Doberman, and Chuck yanked Gordon to the floor, the heat and noise flowing over them and pushing the cars into them.

Combine radios chattered through the ringing in Gordon's ears, and he slammed a hand down on car closest, using it to pull himself up. A bullet ricocheted next to his head, and he dropped again, scooping up the rifle he had dropped in the explosion.

He tossed a grenade over, and held on to the livid Chuck long enough for it to go off before he let him off the proverbial leash.

Gordon followed, being relatively professional and smooth compared to Chuck's bloody, almost spasming rampage. How this guy wasn't dead yet was beyond Gordon. Maybe the soldiers didn't expect their enemy to be quite so… in their face all the time. The man just didn't let up. Not that Gordon could blame him, under the circumstances.

The grenade had cleared out two of the soldiers, and between them, Chuck and Gordon managed to dispatch the remaining five without too much trouble. Chuck led the way out of the parking garage, and Gordon couldn't help but note the bloody mess coming out of his side.

"Are you-"

"It's fine."

"You're bleeding."

The much larger man whirled on his heel, jabbing a finger at the red cross on his arm. "See this? Medic. You got one of these? No? Then let me decide what's okay and what's not."

After a pause to confirm that what he said had sunk in, Chuck turned and started walking.

"Nothing I could do anyway," he muttered, so quietly that Gordon wasn't sure if he was meant to hear it.

Moving on through the streets and following breathless directions to the horse (whatever the hell that was, nobody answered him when he asked) they eventually clambered through the remains of another building that took them up to what was now the roof. It clearly wasn't always so, judging by the window frames and the state of the walls. It looked like some giant had taken a bite directly off the top. The building was tall enough that they could look down on a Strider, however.

The room was pretty much clear, just a chunk of rock on the left of where the stairs had brought them out. It looked like it could have been an attic at some point. A crate of rockets was stashed behind the debris. Four of so rebels darted in and out of the windows, firing on Combine soldiers that had taken up camp in the buildings surrounding it.

A gunship roared overhead, and opened fire. The rebels in the room could only duck while one, who possessed a rocket launcher, tried his best to take it down. He managed to get the rocket off, but a football sized bullet from a nearby Strider tore him in half, knocking him off the building. The rocket launcher fell to the ground.

Chuck ran for it, his legs wobbling beneath him as he stumbled along. Gordon tried to stop him, but could only watch as the hulking medic knelt, his face screwed up in agony, and lifted the rocket launcher onto his shoulder.

"Get to the horse!" Chuck shouted, his eyes not even on Gordon as he drove a hand into the ammo crate and yanked out a rocket. Before he had even placed the rocket inside, the Gunship had torn through him with gunfire, tossing him limply across the room and against the wall. The rocket launcher tumbled over the ledge.

Gordon ran to him. His eyes were glazed over, staring at nothing.

"Freeman, _get to the horse!"_ another rebel cried out, firing sporadically out of the window. Two Striders thumped around the building, looking for an opening. The Gunship continued circling, doing much the same.

He hadn't even known Chuck. This insane, angry man who had sacrificed himself for… what? Gordon didn't know him. And he would never get the chance to. Amanda, Doberman, Chuck… maybe even Alyx, now. So many people he wouldn't get to truly _know_.

"To hell with the horse," he muttered, and leapt to his feet. He scooped up a rock and looked around for the Gunship and the closest Strider.

"Freeman, what the hell are you-" the woman was interrupted by more gunfire, and dropped to her knee.

"Get out of here!" she screamed. "Get to the horse!"

"Busy!" he shouted, finally spotting the Gunship. He strode out into the open, where the broken wall afforded him the least cover. Eyes flitting to the roaring beast up above, Gordon clambered up on a section of wall next to a Strider and tossed the rock.

The beast turned to face him, weapon tilting upwards.

"Come on, come on, recognise me…" he muttered. "I'm the Freeman, I'm Gordon Freeman…"

The Strider seemed ready to fire bullets, which wasn't what Gordon needed. He looked back at the Gunship, lining up to fire.

Gordon faced the Strider. "Come on!" he cried. "I'm Gordon Freeman, come on!"

_That _did it. The Strider began charging just as the Gunship opened fire, a trail of bullets leading across the floor and up to him. Gordon saw light bend, pulled towards the now glowing weapon. Gordon jumped to the side as it fired, lashing out and hitting the Gunship dead centre.

It roared and flailed in the air, peppered by small explosions before finally going out with a magnificent bang.

The other Strider had taken notice, and was thumping over to assist.

Gordon scrambled to his feet and ran to the opposite side of the roof. Touching the wall, he kicked off again and ran towards the Strider that had felled the gunship. He pushed himself off from the ledge, crowbar outstretched, managing to hook it on to the Strider's gun. Gordon held on for dear life as the Strider swung him this way and that, its roars deafening at this proximity.

Gordon pulled himself up, managing to swing his leg up on to the top of the beast's shell-like head. There were seams, like the shell of a turtle. He stabbed down with the crowbar, reminded of his final moments with the Nihilanth.

With a mighty rowing motion, Gordon managed to pry one of the patches of shell up only slightly. He pulled the pin of a grenade with his teeth and wedged it inside. Gordon scrambled to his feet and ran as best he could on top of the smooth head, jumping for the roof of the building.

He wasn't going to make it.

Then the grenade exploded, the blast giving him an extra push and sending him hurtling into the floor blow the roof, rolling and sliding until he hit the wall faster than he ever would have wanted. His ears were ringing, his body ached.

Looking up in a haze, he saw the Strider stumble on the spot before tumbling to the ground and through the legs of its approaching companion, sending both of them thundering to the ground with a tremendous quake.

Everything hurt, his vision was hazy, and his hearing wasn't doing too great, either.

"_I'd like to take a moment to address you directly, Doctor Freeman."_

Breen…

"_Yes, I'm talking to __**you**__. The so-called 'One Free Man'." _

The voice was almost ghostly, fading in and out of existence as he tried to find the strength to get up.

"_I have a question for you; how could you have thrown it all away? It staggers the mind. A man of science with the ability to sway reactionary and fearful minds toward the truth. Choosing instead to embark on a path of ignorance and decay. Make no mistake, Doctor Freeman; this is not a scientific revolution you've sparked. This is death and finality. You have plunged humanity into freefall."_

Explosions and gunfire in the distance. Someone was calling his name. Was Breen right?

"_Even if you offered your surrender now, I cannot guarantee that our benefactors would accept it. At the moment I fear they have begun to look upon even me with suspicion. So much for serving as humanity's representative."_

No, probably not. Gordon had heard that tone of voice before from Breen. He just sounded pissed that his boss didn't like him anymore.

"_Help me win back their trust, Doctor Freeman. Surrender while you still can. Help ensure that humanity's trust in you is not misguided._ _Do what is right, Doctor Freeman. Serve mankind."_

"Shut the hell up, please…"

"Sorry?"

Gordon frowned at the foreign voice, and blinked. The female rebel was crouched in front of him. Another medic, this one a short and skinny man about Barney's age was dabbing something against the side of his head. As he pulled the bandage away, Gordon noticed the blood there.

"The bleeding's stopped," the medic grunted. "That suit of yours does nice work."

"Freeman…" the woman said, the words seeming to catch in her throat, "that was _amazing!"_

"Uh-huh," he mumbled, listening more to the HEV suits status report than her. He would probably need to recharge soon; he wouldn't be able to take many more bullets in this state.

"But seriously, that was like… that was shit from Black Mesa style! Like when you tamed that Gargantua!"

"I did what to a _what?"_ he mumbled, face screwing up as the woman spoke more. He threw up a hand when it looked like she was going to say more.

"Just…" he grunted and painfully shifted himself to his feet. "Where's the horse?"

Blinking, the woman smiled sheepishly.

"Oh, uh…" She nodded over Gordon's right shoulder. "Over there."

Looking through the window frame, he saw a bronze statue of a horse waiting for him. And it was at the base of the Citadel. Didn't Dr Kleiner say that was where Eli was?

"Okay," he said, trying his best not to sound ungrateful. "Thank you."

A man who looked far too old for the puppy dog look in his eyes came up to him, holding a pulse rifle like it was King Arthur's sword.

"Here's your rifle, Dr Freeman."

"That's… great, thanks."

As ever, Gordon Freeman moved on, walking the tightrope of metal girders that made up the frame of what was once the apartment building. He used a closed dumpster to cushion the fall as he leapt from the building to the street where the horse waited. As he walked into the street, he looked to the left and saw the same chasm he and Alyx had needed to cross. The same place he lost her.

Gordon blinked the thought away and headed for the Citadel. The horse was the centrepiece of a roundabout junction, roads heading off in four directions around it. Combine soldiers had taken up shop on the right-hand junction from Gordon, which he naturally didn't notice until he was out in the open.

He ducked behind the base of the horse statue, the bullets pounding uselessly into the concrete. The left-hand road was blocked by used cars. Or it seemed to be, at any rate. Something seemed to be coming from the other side, and it wasn't bothered by cars…

The vehicles exploded out onto the street, kicking up dust and sending spare parts everywhere. Gordon aimed his weapon, not sure what the hell to expect.

And then Dog emerged, and Gordon couldn't remember the last time his smile was so wide. After acknowledging his presence with a fond hoot, Dog turned to the soldiers and went on his way.

Gordon looked around the corner to see what kind of carnage Dog was unloading when he saw someone else coming out of the smoke, coughing and shouting.

"Here, boy. Dog! Come back here, Dog! Damn it all…"

Wafting dust out of his face, Barney looked up, and smiled.

"Gordon? Ya made it!"

He ran over and took cover behind the statue with him. As Barney spoke, Gordon noticed something over his shoulder. Something coming from where the soldiers had been based, where Dog was still busy.

Victor, striding towards him.

"Dog-"

Noticing that Gordon's attention wasn't on him, Barney turned and saw Victor now charging at them.

"Holy-" Barney turned his rifle on him too late, Victor swatting the gun out of his hands. The Combine monster promptly grabbed him by the collar and tossed him easily over his shoulder, sending him tumbling along the road until his back hit the wall of the building opposite.

Victor threw a fist at Gordon's head. He ducked and leapt off to the side, rolling into kneeling position and rifle brought up. He opened fire, tearing through Victor's belly. Not that he cared. He just grabbed the rifle and slammed his palm into Gordon's chest, throwing him across the street and next to Barney.

The soldier took aim with the rifle, charging the energy orb. Barney snatched up his rifle and did the same. The two cores flew into each other, deflecting off and bouncing harmlessly into the air. Barney didn't let up, unloading everything he had into Victor until the rifle was flung out of his hands.

Unarmed, Victor just stood for a moment, staring at them.

"Gordon?" Barney asked, eyes on Victor.

"Yeah?"

"You know this guy?"

"Sort of."

"How is he not dead?"

"Don't know."

"How did you get rid of him before?"

"Helicopter propeller to the chest, Ant-Lion mother, blew up Nova Prospekt with him inside…"

"And he's still alive?"

"Yeah."

"Shit."

"Yeah…"

Victor stamped down a foot on the ground, springing up the manhole cover that Gordon hadn't noticed was there until now.

He tossed it like a Frisbee, hitting Gordon in the chest and slamming him through the windows of the building behind him. A table broke his fall, cracking behind him as he rolled and slid across the floor, eventually coming to a slow stop. Groaning and readjusting his askew glasses, Gordon hefted himself into a sitting position and looked outside.

Barney slammed the butt of his rifle against the approaching Victor's face, which, to his credit, at least made him stop. Unfortunately for Barney, when Victor stopped, you were dead.

Victor grabbed Barney's neck and lifted him off the ground, and Gordon scrambled to his feet, sprinting and yanking the crowbar out as he went. Seeing him coming, Victor swung Barney around and tossed him into Gordon, knocking them both back down the street in an awkward heap.

"Oh. _Ow,"_ Barney moaned, and Gordon squinted, the sun in his eyes.

The light was suddenly blotted out by Victor standing above him, and he latched on to Gordon, vice like grip on his neck.

"Put him down," Barney grunted, heaving himself to his feet.

Victor just squeezed harder, and Gordon could do nothing except hold on to his arm. So much for the One Free Man.

"I said, put him down."

Still nothing. There wasn't even a sign that Victor had heard him speak. His vision was going dark. Was that good? It probably wasn't good. Where are you now, HEV suit? Haven't got any parameters for being choked to death by a Combine war machine, do you?

"Final warning, buddy. You put him down, or I'll kill you using two fingers."

That got both Victor and Gordon's attention. Barney had taken off his glove and was holding up his thumb and forefinger, eyebrows waggling menacingly.

"Don't push me. I'll do it."

If Victor could have laughed, he probably would have at that moment. He then resumed the choking.

"All right," Barney sighed, sticking the fingers in his mouth. An almighty whistle pierced Gordon's ears, quickly followed by the distant hoot of Dog.

And then, suddenly, Victor was gone, and Gordon had been dropped unceremoniously to the ground. Barney was by his side straight away.

"You okay?"

Gordon coughed, and nodded. "What about him?"

Victor sailed through the air over Barney's head, landing far behind Gordon.

The ex-security guard grinned. "I wouldn't worry about it."

Dog thundered past, and Gordon watched as Victor sprang to his feet. The soldier swung a fist at Dog, who caught the entire arm and snatched up both of his legs with the other hand. Lifting Victor about his head, Dog pulled in either direction, easily yanking him in half.

There was no blood, just bits of circuitry dropping to the ground around Dog's feet.

Barney helped Gordon to his feet, but he could already feel the HEV suit doing its' work. By the time they were standing over the torso, he felt strong enough to walk on his own.

The light in Victor's eyepiece was fading in and out, finally dying.

"_Y…"_

Gordon looked at Barney, frowning. Had he heard that? Was Victor speaking. Barney just shrugged.

"Don't look at me, he's your wrestlin' buddy."

"_You… you…"_

"Um…" Gordon cleared his throat. "Hello?"

"_You… scientist…"_

His eyebrows nearly shot up off his face when he heard that. "Do you… know me?"

"_You scientist… shit."_

Barney smiled. "Definitely knows ya, Gordon-"

An urgent hand in the air, Gordon shushed him vehemently. He swallowed.

"Who are you?"

"_You scientist shit. You think… you can do my job better… better… better… better than me?"_

The light died, and so did Victor. The world dropped from around Gordon. The person who said that, back at Black Mesa… how?

"How was he here? And like this? What…?"

"Gordon…" Barney was down beside him now. "Did you know this, uh… guy?"

He nodded, mutely. "Back at Black Mesa. We met… after the accident. After you saw me getting dragged off by those soldiers."

"What was he?"

"He… was a security guard."

"Geez… what was his name?"

Gordon was reluctant to say. There were enough coincidences here to last a lifetime, he didn't need Barney making it worse.

"Kaufman."

There was a breathless pause. "Kaufman."

Gordon nodded.

"_The _Kaufman."

He looked at Barney, disbelief etched in his face.

Then Barney grinned. "Nah, I'm just yankin' ya. But how freaky would that be, seriously?"

Words failed him, so Gordon just settled for shaking his head in disbelief. He stared down at the limp torso in front of him. What the hell had happened to his man? The last time Gordon had seen him, he was being blown up by a helicopter. It was _possible _he could have survived that, but what about everything else? The Xen aliens, the soldiers… the nuclear explosion, but God's sake?

Barney snapped his finger in front of his face, and Gordon blinked.

"Move on, Gordon. I know this is freakin' you out, but we got business to attend to."

Taking a moment, Gordon allowed himself a deep breath before nodding and getting to his feet. Barney nodded over his shoulder towards the Citadel wall, where Dog was thumping against its' unrelenting surface. Not even a dent.

"Dog came smashing through the Plaza, knockin' over walls, and… I think he's lookin' for Alyx. He seems to have it set in his… head… that she's in the Citadel. I figured Alyx wouldn't want him getting any deeper in trouble, but… hell, _you _try stopping him."

The pounding option not yielding any results, Dog dug his hands into the road and attempted to lift a section of the wall up. They looked like the 'teeth' Gordon had seen those Combine walls using across the city and in Nova Prospekt.

"Hey, Dog!" Barney ran over, looking concerned for the robots safety. "Not there, you can't get through that way!"

Dog heaved the strut above his head, leaving a sizeable hole in the ground.

"Oh. Well. I'll be damned," Barney muttered, walking over. He whistled as he peered in beside Gordon. It went down quite far, and even seemed to lead further inside. A way in to the Citadel. To Eli. And maybe, according to Dog's instincts, to Alyx.

Arms shaking a little from the effort, Dog looked over his shoulder at Gordon.

"I think he wants you to go through, Gordon," Barney said, slapping him on the back. "You'd better hurry."

A few days ago, Gordon would have asked 'why me?' or some sort of question along those lines. Something to justify why it was _him_, some random, lowly scientist who just happened to be wearing a hazard suit that had to take care of all the deadly business.

But now he just picked up a pulse rifle, nodded, and clambered on down through the hole in the ground. There was a ledge halfway that he slipped safely down to. He lowered himself further to the floor. The tunnel was misty, and what little light there was from above wasn't helping. But it was small, he could tell that much.

"Okay, Gordon," Barney shouted from above, unseen. "Good luck!"

All Gordon could see was Dog holding up the strut, and struggling with it at that. Best to keep it short.

"I know it'll be difficult, but try to have fun without me, please," he said, and Barney laughed.

"And if you see Dr Breen, tell him I said f-" Dog dropped the strut, "-you!"

Gordon smiled, flicked on the flashlight, and crouched down. Alone but determined, he started crawling. He could hear machinery.

He looked forward to delivering Barney's message in person.

* * *

(A/N: For those scratching their heads about Kaufman, he was a nutty security guard I wrote into 'The Black Mesa Incident' for the 'Questionable Ethics' and 'Surface Tension' chapters. There's a little bit more about him in the 'Sidelines' story by myself and BlindAcquiescence.

Anyway, don't stop the reviews now, everybody; we're nearly to the finish line!)


	14. Our Benefactors'

Disclaimer: I don't own _Half-Life._

_**Welcome to City 17**_

_**Chapter Fourteen: 'Our Benefactors'**_

Hydraulics echoed from somewhere ahead as Gordon crawled, the flashlight not giving him as much visibility as he would have liked. Gravel crunched and scraped beneath his hands and knees, kicking up a fine mist around him as he emerged from the tunnel.

He tried not to look down. A chasm stretched out in front of him, the blue fog down below preventing him from seeing just how far down it went. Crawling out of the tunnel, Gordon planted his feet on a rocky pathway running along the cliff face on his left.

Far across from him sat the base of the Citadel, deep grey metal sprouting out of the mist below and disappearing into the cliff face opposite him. Random bits of machinery moved up and down, attached to the spires that made up the architecture of the building. Metal jackhammers, slowly moving up and down. What they were actually doing, Gordon could only guess. But he could see that one of the jackhammers was close to both a ledge up ahead on the cliff face, and a walkway into the complex.

Back pressed to the wall, Gordon followed the path around until it was close enough to the jackhammer. He waited until it was lower down before pushing himself off, landing on the smooth metal far more violently than he predicted, his momentum slamming him into the wall but thankfully not over the side.

Still hurt, though.

As Gordon rubbed his sore forehead, the jackhammer slowly rose up, taking him up just next to the ledge he needed. He stepped on, rifle raised.

Wary of the guardrail-free pathway that snaked ahead, Gordon moved into the Citadel. Moving through icy blue metal corridors, Gordon eventually came out on a walkway overlooking… he wasn't sure what on his right. It was a deep trench, stretching up just as high as it went down.

A metal rung snaked around from just ahead of Gordon, coming from the left and joining with the main rail that ran along the middle of the trench beside him. Harnesses like those Gordon had seen Eli strapped into at Nova Prospekt ran along the rail, heading down the passageway before rising up and out of Gordon's sight.

Moving ahead and around the corner, he saw the coffin-like harnesses emerging from a force-field protected conveyer belt, one after the other. As he stepped to the edge, the coffin stopped and turned towards him, opening ominously. After a brief pause, it closed again and moved off.

Gordon moved back and looked up and down the corridor. Nowhere else to go. He looked back at the continuous flow of coffins, and saw one open up again.

He sighed, knowing he was going to regret this.

Gordon stepped inside, back first, and tried not to panic as the harness clamped into place over his chest. It turned, and then, with a jolt, he was off, heading to he left and higher up.

It turned a corner, taking him to what looked like a checkpoint, a Combine camera checking each coffin in turn and giving them the green light. It stopped on him, and a small alarm sounded.

"Shit," he muttered, struggling against the metal brace in front of him. It wouldn't budge.

The camera flashed and clicked, taking photos before he was violently shoved on his way again, his coffin taking a completely different rail than the others.

A horrific scream made Gordon duck his head, and he watched another coffin going in a separate direction, holding someone else. Or at least, Gordon assumed it was a person. They looked all muscle, the flesh seemingly stripped from their bones. No teeth, and from what Gordon could see, no forearms or calves either, replaced instead by long metal spikes. On its' face, a metal visor had been placed over the eyes, only a thin black slit affording any eyesight for whatever… _who_ever it was.

It writhed and cried out like an animal, thrashing against the metal clamps of the harness.

Gordon tried to put it out of his mind as he was swung over to the right and through a tunnel, bright light from the other side blinding him momentarily. When his vision returned, Gordon's breath caught in his throat.

He knew this place. He had been shown it, before he arrived in City 17. Shown by Him, His ghostly image smiling over it, almost pleased.

Those coffins, moving so fast, like a production line. Hydraulic arms grabbing the coffins, moving, reorganising… Gordon didn't want to think about what happened within these walls. Down below on a small platform, guarded by a soldier, Gordon saw two of the… creatures he had seen earlier working on a control panel, sparks flying from a laser beam coming from the visor on their faces.

Stripped of their body parts, their humanity… and then used as maintenance workers. Breen had a lot to answer for.

Turning another corner, Gordon tried his best not to jump when he saw three Striders moving towards him. The rail suddenly jerked, taking him upwards and over the monsters. They didn't acknowledge him. Why would they? He was just part of the Citadel's system now.

Beside him, one of the trains that had nearly crushed him in his car on the highway shot past, taking a gust of hot air with it.

Then another jolt, and he started to slow, moving through a threshold that seemed to move to a dead end. Looking down, Gordon saw the smallest of square rooms many feet below, two white lights on either side giving it an ominous, interrogatory look. The harness opened and tilted down, and he fell.

Gordon didn't even have a chance to _try _and grab on to anything, and plummeted. That was too high, even for the HEV suit. He was dead.

But then, for some reason, he wasn't. Looking around, Gordon saw blue sparks of energy gently swirling and dancing around him, . Somehow, they were slowing his descent, acting like an air cushion until his feet were safely on the ground. They dissolved, leaving him alone.

The woman's voice, distant and cold, echoed to his ears, talking about 'disinfection' and 'unauthorised' something. 'Confiscation field' was in there, too.

He frowned. "'Confiscation field'?"

The lights on the walls intensified. Gordon looked to the only doorway in the room. Blocked by a force field. The woman was counting down, and Gordon was stuck. Well. This was a hell of a way to go.

Three.

Two.

Gordon closed his eyes.

One.

Bright light made him screw up his face, and he opened his eyes when he felt something tugging at him, pulling the weapons from his body, holsters and all.

He could only watch as white bolts of light took the pulse rifle, the grenades, the Gravity Gun… even the crowbar, tossing and turning in the air in front of him. Gordon tried to reach out and grab them, but the blue lights that had softened his fall made it feel as though he were moving through sludge.

The beams concentrated on the pulse rifle, dissolving it into thin air with the same effect Gordon had seen the generator core have on those soldiers when he was with Alyx and the squad.

Then the grenades.

Then the crowbar.

They had destroyed his crowbar. In front of his eyes.

His. _Crowbar. _

Someone was going to pay.

Then the light concentrated on the Gravity Gun, and Gordon closed his eyes, preparing himself for the same treatment. But, instead, the light continued to blast into the Gravity Gun. It looked like it was absorbing it. The orange crystal at the centre of the device began to glow, changing to a brilliant blue hue. Then the energy lashed out through the Gravity Gun at him.

The HEV suit bleeped happily, charging up to 100%.

Then it kept on going, moving to 200%.

He frowned. What the hell was going on?

Then, with one, final burst of energy, everything collapsed to the ground. The lights in the wall sparked and sputtered, and the force field was gone. The announcer woman was having a fit, telling all units to converge on what he assumed was his decontamination chamber.

Panicking, Gordon reached for the Gravity Gun, wary of the blue-white energy that danced across it. The device sparked and jolted in his hands, but not too much to affect him. There was nothing to throw, though. He would have to wait until the soldiers were close enough and then steal one of their weapons.

Combine radios beeped and squawked from down the corridor ahead, and he heard the heavy boots approaching. Gordon tucked himself around the corner and waited.

A soldier whirled around the corner, rifle at the ready. Gordon pressed the button.

But instead of the weapon coming towards him, the entire soldier came to him, rendered immobile in front of him. He and the soldier stared at each other, equally shocked.

Gordon recovered first, and smiled. "Oh, look," he said, "a new toy."

He fired, slamming the soldier into the wall with such ferocity that he was dead before he hit the floor. Gordon whirled around the corner, blasting the next soldier in the face and sending him tumbling back into his comrades. Charging into them, Gordon went crazy, firing the primary charge and tossing them up and down the corridor like leaves in the wind.

That squad dispatched, Gordon emerged from the corridor and walked past a large console, eventually ending up on a wide glass walkway. Soldiers emerged from the doorway on the other side, and Gordon backed up as they opened fire. Some of the bullets hit against his stomach. But he didn't feel them. Checking his stats, he saw thee bullets had barely made a dent.

He laughed, amazed. Gordon would have to thank Breen for making this easier for him. He charged out into the throng of soldiers, blasting several spiralling into the air. Elbowing one in the face, he was surprised to see the soldier knocked completely unconscious, like he had hit a wall.

The soldiers were all dead within seconds. Gordon took a breath. This could get ridiculous.

"_So, this is Doctor Freeman." _

He whirled around, Gravity Gun at the ready. Finding no-one, he followed the source of the voice as it spoke.

"_At last. I wish I could say this was a pleasant surprise, but it's neither a surprise, nor, as you will surely agree, very pleasant."_

Walking back to the monitor near the corridor, he saw Dr Breen's grinning face staring back at him. Gordon snapped a finger in front of his face, and there was no reaction. Okay. So it was a message rather than an attempt at communication.

"_Well, I am nothing if not pragmatic."_

With that, the screen went back to blank blue, white text describing code Gordon could only guess at the importance of. Gordon moved on, coming to yet more soldiers, who were dispatched quickly. Gordon was getting used to this. And it was a bit frightening.

He passed another monitor in another corridor, and Dr Breen appeared again.

"_Well, Doctor Freeman. Under other circumstances I like to think we might have been able to work together in an atmosphere of mutual trust and respect. Certainly, judging by your brief tenure at Black Mesa while I was its' administrator you showed every promise of becoming a valuable and productive contributor to the scientific process. And yet, I'm not sure what spurred you to it. But there really is no place in this enterprise for a… rogue physicist."_

And then he was gone. While it was true Gordon hadn't known Breen that well during his time at Black Mesa, he had heard enough stories from Eli and Kleiner, not to mention Magnusson's very loud, very public rants, to know that he wasn't someone Gordon would have enjoyed working with on a personal level. Only concerned with his own welfare, his own advancement. Gordon would rather have a beer with Barney or have lunch with Eli or work on new procedures with Dr Kleiner, any day of the week.

He moved on through the Citadel, navigating his way as best he could. Stepping through a secure looking threshold, Gordon came to a massive shaft of light heading upwards. A walkway went around it, different paths branching off in five directions. Beside each separate branch were smaller beams of light. On each of them, Gordon noticed the Combine power core orbs travelling up the beams and further up into the ceiling.

A soldier ran around the corner, coming face to face with him. Gravity Gun already aimed over his shoulder, Gordon summoned one of the power cores to him. He fired it at the soldier, burning him away into white ashes. Other soldiers followed, and were dispatched just as easily.

Once he was satisfied they were done with, Gordon continued on. He found his way blocked by force fields. Exploring, he found a small balcony that led down to an out of the way corridor. There was, however, a monitor there, transmitting Breen's messages to him.

"_Your mentors are partly to blame, of course," _he announced irritably._ "My disappointment in Eli Vance and Isaac Kleiner is far greater than my sorrow over your unfortunate choice of career path. In a way I suppose you could not have done otherwise. Who knows what seeds of iconoclasm they planted when you were young and gullible. But while they certainly share a great part of the responsibility for the recent troubles, it is you alone who has chosen to act with such wilful disregard for humanity's future."_

They were becoming monotonous now, and he was finding it easier to tune out. Like a troublesome student who was used to being scolded by his teacher.

Next up was a wide glass platform taking him up an equally large elevator shaft. There were thin slivers of windows all along the walls, and soldiers took delight in firing on him, knowing he could do nothing but curl up in a ball and take it.

But then Gordon noticed the white beams of light running up alongside the platform, the energy orbs along with it. When he summoned one to him, he could have sworn he heard a soldier distinctly mutter 'for fuck's sake'.

Moving on into the next corridor, Gordon was confronted with more soldiers than he had ever seen gathered in one place. Twenty, at least. He sighed, and summoned an orb to him. Gordon fired it into the crowd and charged, the bullets practically bouncing off him.

He ducked blows, responding with attacks that sent his opponents flying into the roof and sliding along the floor. Yet more soldiers poured out from corridors that were seemingly everywhere, tossed and crushed into walls and each other, blood spattering against Gordon's HEV suit and glasses. They even attempted a dog pile.

It didn't end well for them.

Finally, when it was all over, Gordon stood over what he had wrought, all the dead bodies and dying groans falling on almost deaf ears. He felt like Superman, for God's sake. Breen won't know what hit him.

Speaking of which…

"_Tell me Doctor Freeman, if you can; you have destroyed so much. What is it exactly that you have created?"_

Gordon looked down. Blood was dripping from his hand, pooling on the floor. He didn't even know which soldier this was from.

"_Can you name even one thing?" _

How had this happened? He was a scientist. Eli had once told him he was like a young Dr Kleiner, all bumbling friendliness and awkward mannerisms hiding a brilliant mind. Peaceful, harmless. Helping, learning, improving the world.

How many people had he killed today? And the day before that?

How many people were dead because of him? Not just from the Resonance Cascade, but all the people who believed in him, who followed him… all dead, trying to help him or save him.

"_I thought not."_

Breen was gone.

Gordon put his hand on the wall, leaving a trail of blood as he wiped it along. He didn't have time for self pity right now. Eli needed him. Alyx needed him. And Breen needed to be stopped.

But he wasn't Gordon Freeman anymore. That was clear. He wasn't that scientist anymore, and he probably never would be again. From now on, he was Gordon Freeman, fighter. Killer. Murderer.

He kept on going, ending up in a long chamber, snaking walkways bridging the gap between massive courtyard areas. Coffins waited on the walls on either side, towering over him. Breen's voice echoed out yet again as Gordon watched a wall in the distance rise up, revealing four soldiers coming towards him. They had backup. A Strider, each footstep thundering through the floor, its' weapon tilted towards him menacingly.

"_I have laid the foundation for humanity's survival. And not as we have narrowly defined ourselves, but as something greater than we could ever imagine. Something we can now only begin to glimpse."_

"Keeping talking, Breen," he muttered. "It's all you've got."

The soldiers were dispatched easily, with one of the coffins used to topple them like skittles.

The Strider seemed reluctant to use the more powerful cannon at its' disposal, instead settling for the bullets. Some caught him as he ran, still hurting him despite the supercharged suit. They were draining the charge faster than he was comfortable with, and he continued running towards the monster, hoping to get beneath it.

Two beams of light framed the room the Strider had been waiting in, energy orbs flowing up them predictably. Gordon navigated his way through the legs, sliding like a baseball player as he snatched one of the energy orbs, pointing it upwards and into the belly of the beast.

The orb exploded, sending out a shockwave that made the Strider stumble pretty violently. Gordon fired another, and another after that. The Strider looked unsure now, moving around like a drunkard. And moving towards the thin walkway Gordon has used to get here. It wasn't really big enough to accommodate a Strider, though.

Gordon fired another orb at one of the Strider's legs. With a pained roar, the Strider toppled into the chasm below. The almighty crashes that echoed up from below made Gordon hiss through his teeth. _That _was going to cause trouble.

There were no more messages from Breen as Gordon moved on, moving through suspiciously empty corridors and hallways until he ended up at another harness loading area.

Jaw set, Gordon looked around the area. All other exits blocked by force fields. Nowhere to go, except…

One of the harnesses opened, summoning him in. Eyes closed, Gordon allowed himself a deep breath before he walked over and stepped inside, gripping the Gravity Gun tightly to his body as the harness clamped shut around him.

The rail he followed took him around a corner and then up. It didn't seem to stop. As he went, Gordon watched as Gunships rose up from beneath, flying out of a port and into the open air, preparing to unleash hell on the rebels below. Green armoured beasts that resembled a cross between a frog and a turtle that Gordon had never seen before crawled along a conveyer belt, their numbers dizzying.

He moved further up into a narrow, tall shaft, the open walls offering him a view of City 17.

Gordon tried not to hyperventilate as he saw how high up he truly was. The lights of the city were dots beneath him, the explosions and smoke coming from below looking like a landscape painting.

The further up he went, the more difficult he found it to catch his breath. The oxygen was getting thinner, and he was getting colder. Fear gripped him as he wondered where he was going, what was going to happen to him. To Alyx. To Eli. To everyone in the city below. He hoped he didn't die here. Asphyxiation seemed a waste.

He hadn't even delivered Barney's message yet.

* * *

(A/N: A rather short one this time - aside from Breen's broadcasts, there isn't much going on here except SuperGordon (I should really copyright that) ploughing through soldiers.

Anyway, keep the reviews coming, everybody; we're almost finished (never thought I'd see those words in this fic).

_Next Chapter: Dark Energy_)


	15. Dark Energy

Disclaimer: I don't own _Half-Life._

_**Welcome to City 17**_

_**Chapter Fifteen: Dark Energy**_

Consciousness came back to Gordon in a blinding flash of light, and he blinked in his struggle to see what was causing the brightness. As his eyes adjusted, he was coming to a halt in front of two Combine soldiers dressed in the white uniforms he had seen in abundance in the lower levels.

It was a small room, with only enough space for the two of them to stand on either side of the closed door at the back. On either wall were two of the confiscation field lights. The soldier on the left pressed a button on the control panel in front of him, and Gordon's harness sprang open.

Two bolts of light from the walls slammed against his chest, pinning him to the wall. The lights snatched the Gravity Gun from his hands, despite his best efforts. It floated in the air in front of him, and the soldier on the right moved over to pluck it out of the air. The harness snapped back into place, and the lights deactivated.

The door opened, and the soldier stepped aside to allow whoever it was to get access to Gordon.

It was Mossman, confidently striding in as she spoke to the soldier.

"I'll take him from here." She turned to look at him, having the gall to change her expression and appear concerned. "Don't struggle, it's no use. Until you're where he wants you there's nothing you can do. I'm sorry, Gordon."

He stared straight ahead, finding it difficult to look at her. "I'm sure."

The coffin jerked to life, moving slowly along the rail and into the corridor beyond, flanked by Mossman and the soldier holding the Gravity Gun. A rich red carpet had been laid out on the floor of the corridor, sitting in stark contrast to the cool blues and greys of everything else in the Citadel. As they moved along, Gordon saw a doorway coming up on the right.

A familiar, smug voice echoed forth. "…carbon stars with ancient satellites colonised by sentient fungi… gas giants inhabited by vast meteorological intelligences, worlds stretched thin across the membranes where the dimensions… intersect… impossible to describe with our limited vocabulary."

As they rounded the corner and entered Breen's office, another voice replied; Eli, strapped to a similar harness and hung in front of Breen like a piece of art.

"What I've seen is also beyond words, Breen. Genocide. Unspeakable evil." His eyes travelled over Breen's shoulder and to Gordon, his face falling. "Good God."

The other man turned to face him and smiled, pressing a button on a small panel beside his desk.

"Well, if it isn't Gordon Freeman, at last."

A metal hook swung down from the ceiling and grabbed Gordon's coffin, bringing him around and closer to Breen, almost beside Eli. It was the same office that Gordon had accidentally teleported into when he first arrived in the city. The only part that was new to him was the long, stretching corridor behind Eli, though Gordon couldn't tell where it went.

Gordon watched in slight panic as the soldier brought the Gravity Gun to Breen. The administrator only gave it a cursory glance,

"What's this?" he chuckled as he waved the soldier away. "Put it over there."

The soldier did so, and Gordon tried to hide his relief, exchanging a look with Eli that suggested he was just as cautious. Gordon couldn't see, but he heard the door slam shut behind the soldier as he left.

"You have my gratitude, Doctor," Breen said, smirking in a manner that made Gordon consider delivering his first ever head butt.

"First you lead me straight to the doorstep of my oldest friend… then you deliver _yourself?_ If I'd known you were going to come straight up to my office," he laughed, looking to Mossman for appreciation of the joke, "I wouldn't have bothered hunting you in the first place!"

Finding no support, he looked between Gordon and Eli, still laughing. "Having both of you in my keeping ensures I can dictate the terms of any bargain I care to make with the Combine!"

The laughing continued, and Breen put two fingers to his temples, as if the jollity was giving him a headache.

"But I thought you were laying the foundation for humanity's survival?" Gordon said sharply, and eliciting a smile from Eli. "Don't tell me it's all about you, Breen."

Breen's obnoxious chuckle faded, and his eyes bored into Gordon's.

Mossman came forward, wringing her hands but speaking as gently as she could. "Doctor Breen…"

"You seem to have found your voice, Doctor Freeman. I remember you being so quiet."

"Odd," he replied quietly, "you're pretty much the same. Less of a backbone, of course, but still-"

"Wallace," Mossman interrupted again, this time more insistent.

"Yes, Judith, what is it?" he said, trying to make it sound as though they were casual acquaintances. Though they probably were, considering what she had done for him. Gordon had never thought he could hate someone, but these two were pushing their way past 'intense dislike' and into the 'hate' arena.

Taking a moment, Mossman looked like she was searching for the right words. "The bargain we should be making is for Eli's life so he can continue his research."

Smiling in a manner he probably thought was pleasant but instead was infuriating, Breen put both hands on Mossman's shoulders.

"Thanks to you, we have everything we need in that regard. You're more than qualified to finish his research yourself. What neither you or I can do is convince that… _rabble _in the streets to give up their senseless struggle."

He glared over her shoulder at Eli. "Yet Eli refuses to speak the words that would save them all."

"Save them?" Eli scoffed. "For what?"

The headache looked like it was returning, and Breen rubbed his temple as he pressed another button on the panel. "Eli… if you won't do the right thing for the good of all people… maybe you'll do it for one of them."

One of the capsules that lined Breen's wall opened up, revealing a harnessed Alyx, her coffin moving over slowly to position her between Eli and Gordon.

"Alyx!" Eli and Gordon chorused, and she looked around in confusion.

"Dad!" she said, grateful and saddened at the same time. She looked to Gordon, and her face dropped.

"Gordon?" All resistance drained from her, her voice suddenly quiet and desperate. "No…"

"Sorry," he muttered, and shrugged. "Hell of a rescue, huh?"

"No kidding," she said quietly, smiling sadly. The expression made Gordon's chest hurt, and he was suddenly convinced that they were all going to die here, today.

His face screwing up, Eli practically spat on Breen. "God damn you Breen, you let her go!"

His smugness cloying, Breen shrugged loosely. "That's all up to you, my old friend," he said smoothly, moving up so close to Alyx that Gordon started willing Breen's head to explode.

"Will you let your stubborn short-sightedness doom the entire species…" Breen stroked the back of his hand down Alyx's cheek, and she writhed like a caged animal beneath his touch. "…or will you give your child the chance her mother never had?"

The glob of spit from Alyx that hit his face answered the question for him.

"How dare you even mention her," she hissed.

Breen slowly wiped the spit from his eye and stared at it in his hand. He brought back his arm as if to strike her.

"Don't you dare," Gordon growled, the intensity of the statement surprising even him.

After a quick glance at Gordon, Breen lowered his hand, instead grabbing her by the chin. "Alyx, my dear, you have your mother's eyes, but your father's stubborn nature."

She shook out of his grasp, almost trying to go for that head butt that Gordon had been considering earlier. "You haven't seen a bit of it yet."

Eli smirked proudly, and Breen looked at him, frustrated and full of fury. Then, suddenly, the rage disappeared, and he sauntered over to the control panel next to his desk.

"Really? Well, let's see how well it serves you… on the far side of a Combine portal."

"Go ahead, Breen," Eli boasted, chin up defiantly. "If that's the worst you can do, send us _both _through your portal."

In answer, Breen pressed a button, and their three coffins rotated, bringing Gordon around to the other side of the room and taking the others up towards a circular white light in the ceiling. It looked like a skylight, but Gordon had a feeling it was a passageway to somewhere far worse.

"Oh, it's hardly the worst," Breen said quietly, dangerously. "But you might find that hard to believe once you _get _there."

"It isn't necessary!" Mossman said desperately, moving to Breen.

He put up a dismissive hand, affording her only the smallest of glances before concentrating on Gordon.

"I agree, it's a total waste. Fortunately, the resistance has shown it is willing to accept a new leader." He walked over to Gordon, a knowing smile on his face as he spoke. "And this one has proven to be a fine pawn for those who control him."

"No!" Eli cried out, but Gordon barely heard him.

His whole world was spiralling around him. Breen knew? Or was he just talking about the rebels, about his penchant for just following orders?

"Don't listen to him, Gordon," Alyx insisted, determined even in the face of death.

Gordon looked up to her, lost and suddenly even more afraid.

Breen seemed to be enjoying this moment of power. Working for the Combine, it was probably one of the few times he got to feel like he was the ruler of the kingdom, as it were.

"How about it, Doctor Freeman? Did you realise your contract was open to the highest bidder?"

His contract? Hadn't _He _mentioned something about employers? They had authorised Him to offer Gordon a job. Gordon had limitless potential, that was what He had said. Did that mean a contract? Was he being employed to do this somehow? Why? Who were his employers? Gordon had never even taken the time to think about these things, and now they were all flooding in on him at once.

Had He done something to his mind to stop him thinking about this in too much detail? Maybe others knew about him. He had been reluctant to talk about Eli or Barney about Him, and about the strange man in the suit who had mastery of advanced technologies to an extent that frightened Gordon. Why? Was it something He had done, some suggestion He had planted in his subconscious?

"Gordon would never make any kind of deal with you," Alyx said firmly, and Gordon looked up at her helplessly, his words caught in his throat, eyes glassy.

What the hell was he supposed to do? Breen might have all the answers to his questions, to everything that had happened to him since that day in the test chamber, laid out for him on a silver platter. But was he willing to let Alyx and Eli die to get those answers? What was waiting for them on the other side of that portal?

"I…"

"I understand if you don't wish to discuss this in front of your friends. I'll send them on their way and then we can talk openly," Breen said, pressing a button on the control panel that began their ascent into the white light.

Gordon could only watch as they went, feeling trapped by the questions in his mind as well as the metal bonds around his body.

"Dad…" Alyx whispered, voice hitching in her throat. "I'm so sorry…"

Eli just smiled with such warmth it made Gordon want to scream. "Don't struggle, honey."

Then, suddenly, they stopped. Everyone's eyes whipped to the desk, where Mossman was standing over the control panel with Alyx's hacking device. Sparks flew from the panel, smoking and inert.

Breen cautiously started to circle around the table, speaking slowly and warningly. "Judith? What do you think you're doing?"

"We're doing what I could never do alone," she announced, sounding more confident than Gordon had ever heard her before. "We're stopping you."

"Yes," Alyx said quietly, excitedly. Gordon frowned, looking up at her. Had this been planned all along? A double bluff? No, Alyx's tears and anger at Mossman's betrayal were real. And the risk to Eli was too great. Mossman's betrayal had been real.

As was _this _betrayal.

Breen rushed to the intercom on the other side of the desk, slamming his hand down on the button.

"Guards, get in here-" Mossman blasted it with the hacking device, catching Breen's hand in the small explosion. He yanked it back and rubbed it tenderly.

Loud clangs came from the door to his office. Gordon guessed that Mossman must have locked it earlier.

Panicking, Breen circled back around the desk to speak to her. "They know you betrayed them, they'll turn on you! Judith… Doctor Mossman, please-"

"I'm sorry, Wallace," she said slowly, triumphantly. "You're all out of time."

She moved over to Gordon and reached up with the hacking device. Breen reached over to her, and she turned on him, the device raised like a weapon.

"Don't…"

He put his hands up in gentle surrender, and she got to work. Behind her, Breen scrambled for the Gravity Gun on the desk, and Gordon started struggling against the harness.

"Quicker, please," he muttered.

"Hurry up, Mossman!" Alyx shouted, which didn't seem to help Mossman's frenzied efforts.

Breen circled around until his back was to the corridor, lugging the Gravity Gun around with quite a bit of difficulty as Mossman finally unlocked the coffin. Gordon shoved it open and past Mossman, charging Breen and ignoring Alyx's voice.

"Watch out, he's gonna-"

"No!" Breen cried, pressing the primary charge and hitting Gordon dead centre. The blast tossed him back across the room, ploughing through Breen's desk and slamming much too hard against the wall behind him.

His supercharged HEV suit took most of the impact for him, however, and he was on his feet in an instant. Mossman had managed to lower Alyx and Eli's coffins and was working to free them.

Gordon sprinted at Breen, who was backing onto a glass platform at the end of the corridor, dragging the Gravity Gun with him. A glass door slammed down in front of him, and he ascended, giving Gordon a small, cheerful wave as he went. He slammed a fist against the glass, and stared up at where Breen was headed.

"Eli…"

"Dad!"

Alyx's voice brought his attention back to Breen's office, and Gordon ran back. Eli was sat on the floor, Mossman and Alyx huddled around him.

"No, no, no," he said quietly, "don't worry about me, honey."

Walking over, Gordon put a gently hand on Alyx's arm. "You okay?" he asked, breathing a little heavy from running down the corridor and back.

She nodded, giving him brief smile before Mossman thrust the hacking device out in front of her.

"You'll need this."

Alyx stared down at it before she gently took it, latching it onto her belt.

"Doctor Mossman… Judith…" She was struggling with what to say. She didn't seem ready for forgiveness or thanks yet, so she nodded down to Eli. "Look after my father."

The warmest smile Gordon had ever seen from Mossman was the response.

"Don't you worry." She sat down next to Eli, putting an arm around him. "I'm not leaving you again, Eli."

After a deep breath, Alyx knelt down in front of her father, taking one of his hands in hers.

"Dad. I'm not saying goodbye."

He grinned and shook his head, wrapping her hand in both of his. "Never."

Alyx bowed her head for a moment before standing and looking at Gordon, pointing down the corridor. Her lip was quivering ever so slightly, and her eyes were red.

"Come on, Gordon. Let's go."

"That's my girl," Eli said, the pride almost visibly swelling in him.

Gordon gave them a nod and a smile before he turned to join Alyx.

"Gordon."

He stopped upon hearing Eli's voice, and turned to face him.

"Thank you for choosing us."

A thousand questions sprang from just that one comment, but Gordon couldn't bring himself to ask a single one in the face of such kindness and humanity. Instead, he just smiled and gave the most honest answer he could.

"Why would I choose anything else? You're all I have."

"Gordon, we gotta go," Alyx called out.

Gordon shrugged to Eli, who waved him away. Mossman and Eli talked softly to each other as Gordon ran to Alyx at the other end of the corridor, and he had the feeling he would have just been getting in the way had he remained.

Alyx had used the hacking device on the elevator controls while Gordon had spoken to Eli, and the door opened for them just as he reached her. They stepped on. She worked her magic on the control panel inside the elevator shaft, and the door slammed shut behind her. The platform jolted to life and took them up to the floor above.

As they rose, Gordon kept his eyes on the glass door high above them that would lead to Breen. He had a few choice words to exchange with the man.

"Gordon…"

He looked to Alyx, who was staring straight ahead instead of looking at him. She glanced at him to confirm he was listening to her, but the momentary eye contact seemed to push her gaze to the floor.

"…we haven't known each other very long, but… I know you didn't have to do this. _I _had to rescue my father, but you… well…"

Alyx looked up at him, tucking her hair behind her ear and holding his gaze as she never had before. In fact, it was a look he had never experienced from anyone… something he didn't recognise in her expression as she afforded him a miniscule yet intensely warm smile.

"…thanks for coming after me."

Gordon felt warm all of a sudden. He took a breath, shrugging and smiling as nonchalantly as he could manage.

"You're important to me."

He realised what he had just said, and added, a little too quickly, "To the resistance, you're important to… the resistance."

He stared down at his feet, then to the wall. Why was this elevator taking so damn long?

"Gordon."

He nodded, and hesitantly glanced over at her. "Hm?"

"You're important to the resistance too."

Alyx was smiling, but again, it was in a manner Gordon had never seen from her before. Her usual defensiveness was gone. It was like she had dropped a barrier, allowing him to see something else, something that felt precious.

He was about to say something else - though he had no idea what - when Alyx threw a finger in the air.

"Hey, listen."

Gordon did so, and heard Breen's voice echoing from above.

"It's _me _you should be concerned about. I can still deliver Earth, but not without your help."

"That's him," she whispered, and Gordon nodded silently, putting his hand up to signal her to be quiet. What was he saying?

"The portal destination is untenable, surely you can set the relay elsewhere. There's no way I can survive in that environment. A host body? You must be joking, I can't possibly- oh, all right, damn it, if that's what it takes. Just hurry, he's right behind me."

The elevator stopped, and Gordon saw who he was talking to. It was the same green slug thing he had been conversing with in his office when this whole City 17 mess had started for him. Was that the Combine? Was that what they looked like?

"There he is," Alyx muttered, and she bounced on the spot like an athlete warming up, waiting for the glass door to open.

Breen turned around and scowled as he spotted them. "Oh, _shit!"_

The door opened, and Breen ran off to the left. Gordon quickly overtook Alyx as he ran around the corner, noting that the monitor had gone blank again. He ran straight into another glass door, blocking him from getting at Breen's smirking face. The elevator took him down as Alyx ran up beside Gordon.

"Damn it, not again!" Alyx groaned.

There was a pause.

"Hey, look what he left behind."

Gordon turned around and saw the Gravity Gun, bright energy core sparking and spasming from the power barely contained within. He picked it up, holding it steady in his hands.

Alyx marvelled at it. "What happened to it?"

"Uh… some confiscation… field… thing. I think it absorbed all the energy."

She cocked an eyebrow. "A supercharged Gravity Gun?" She smirked. "He doesn't have a clue, does he?"

"Probably not."

Her forehead wrinkled in a frown, and she looked back to the elevator Breen had disappeared down.

"I wonder where he's going," she pondered aloud, moving to the same large console Breen had been using to talk to the Combine. Tapping away on the keyboard, she did something that moved the wall behind the computer.

Metal slats peeled away, revealing a view of some complicated machinery behind. Beyond the window was a platform overlooking the tip of what looked like a large spire in the very centre of the Citadel. At the tip was a pulsating core of white energy, crackling and barely contained.

"Oh my God."

Gordon moved up beside her. "What?"

"This…" she swallowed, dragging her eyes off the view to look at him. "This is the Citadel's Dark Fusion Reactor. It powers their tunnelling Entanglement device. We'll never have a chance like this again. We've got to stop Doctor Breen."

She started tapping away on the keyboard again, but stopped just a few moments later, leaning against the panel, her head drooping down.

When she didn't speak, Gordon tilted his head down to speak to her. "Alyx?"

Slowly, painfully, she moved her eyes up to his, looking him straight in the eyes.

"I can't shut it down. Looks like he's turned over control to the other side."

He nodded. "I'll go inside."

Alyx shook her head, still not looking at him. "You can't."

"I'll be fine."

"You don't know that. There are energies out there that could-"

"Couldn't be worse than anything else I've-"

"_You can't know that, Gordon!"_ she cried, slamming a hand down on the console.

"Alyx," he said, as calmly as he could manage. "This is the only way."

She looked up at him. Anger and fear, all in one expression. All in the eyes. "It shouldn't be."

He sighed. "Yeah."

She stared at him a moment longer before nodding. "Okay… okay. I'll stay here and move some of the machinery to help you get to the core."

She went back to typing. "Get in the elevator and I'll let you in," she said quietly, almost inaudibly.

Gordon nodded and silently went to the glass door, which opened for him obediently. He walked onto the platform, and the door slid shut behind him.

Alyx ran over, stopping just short of colliding with the door. Her voice was slightly muffled by the glass.

"Do your worst, Gordon, but…" She put her hands on the glass, staring into his eyes. "Be careful."

Sadly, and knowing that he wasn't going to survive, Gordon brought his hand up, gently touching the glass where her hands were.

"See you."

The elevator jolted to life and took him down into the core chamber. Gordon stepped out, squinting at the bright orb of energy that was at the centre of the machinery. Within it, barely visible, was Dr Breen, more a silhouette than a person.

"_It's Doctor Breen, there he is,"_ Alyx said, he voice coming in through the suit radio.

"_Doctor Freeman, you really shouldn't be out there. At the moment of synapse as I teleport, this chamber will be bathed in deadly particles that have yet to be named by human science. Perhaps when I have the leisure to do the work myself, I'll name one of them after you. That way, you won't be completely forgotten," _Breen announced, his voice booming out from everywhere.

The walkway ramped up to the right, and Gordon followed it along, keeping an ever present eye on the various doorways and walkways along the side of the core walls. He didn't put it past some of the soldiers to be suicidal enough to come here and try to kill him, even now.

He reached the end of the walkway, and didn't see any way forward. A metal platform slid down in front of him, and he smiled.

"Thanks, Alyx."

He stepped on, and it took him up, slamming into place far higher up. There was still nowhere to go.

"_I could have told you that was pointless, Doctor Freeman,"_ Breen sing-songed, like a child gloating.

As ever, Alyx's voice cut through the confusion. _"Don't listen to him, Gordon._"

Another platform swung around the core, moving in line with the platform Gordon was standing on, though there was a sizeable gap between backed up to the wall before running for it, his momentum carrying him along to a walkway circling around a shaft of light. Down below, Gordon could see Breen, safely enraptured in his orb of teleportation energy.

"_Stay away from the core,"_ Alyx warned, sounding a little more panicked than Gordon would have liked.

"Can do."

"_When the singularity collapses," _Breen said slowly,_ "I will be far away from here. In another universe, as a matter of fact. You, on the other hand, will be destroyed in every way it is possible to be destroyed, and even in some that are essentially __**im**__possible!"_

"Alyx," Gordon said, eyes searching for a way up, "would you be able to patch me through to Breen so I could tell him to shut up?"

"_Sorry, out of my hands," _she laughed, though it did little to lighten the mood._ "You'll have to shut him up the hard way."_

Sighing, Gordon latched on to the framework of the core, throwing the Gravity Gun over his shoulder and clambering up as far as the various ledges and seams would allow. A platform grew out of the wall behind him, and Gordon leapt off, landing awkwardly on the edge chest first. His arms scrambled for grip, and he managed to latch on. Gordon heaved himself up.

"_Go, Gordon!"_

The platform was high enough to allow him to jump up to another ledge above him. Gordon pulled himself up, and watched as another lift slammed down next to the walkway he was now on.

Gordon stepped on, and it took him directly up to the balcony he had been overlooking with Alyx.

"_Great!" _

He could see her looking through the windows from behind the console, and he gave her the smallest of salutes.

Her smile was interrupted by something she saw over his shoulder. _"Oh no, Breen's started his ascent."_

Gordon whirled around, and saw that Breen's orb had moved up, almost level with the pulsating energy that sat at the tip of the reactor. Looking around the balcony, Gordon saw two of the energy beams that transported the small power cores set up on either side.

His HEV suit bleeped, and Gordon frowned. The stats were going down, faster and faster. The radiation from the core was draining it. He hoped the same thing didn't happen to the Gravity Gun; it was all he had to fight with right now.

He heard the roar of Gunships, and two swooped out from below the Citadel.

"Oh, typical," he moaned.

Gordon yanked out one of the orbs with the Gravity Gun, and opened fire on the reactor.

There was a thunderous bang, and the ground shook.

"_No!" _Breen cried out, giving Gordon a little moment of satisfaction as he stumbled about.

Gordon righted himself just as he saw metal shields float into place around the reactor. They rotated around it, making it difficult to get a clean shot.

The gunships opened fire, and Gordon ducked behind the pillar beside the energy beams.

He yanked another orb with the Gravity Gun and stepped out into the open. Three gunship bullets hit him, and he bit back the cry in his throat as he stumbled back.

"_Gordon!"_

Urged on by Alyx's voice, Gordon fired the orb at the reactor again, collapsing one of the shields. It gave him a gap. That was enough; he would just have to aim precisely, because he sure as hell didn't have time to remove them all. The Gunships swung around for another pass, and Gordon grabbed another orb with the Gravity Gun.

The sky flashed and rumbled, the clouds tearing themselves apart in a circle.

"_Oh my God… the portal's opening."_

Gordon looked up, watching as the Gunships struggled to resist the pull of the portal.

"Is it too late?" he murmured, his sense of scientific wonder still managing to distract him.

"_Keep it up Gordon, it's working."_

He nodded and fired again, this one hitting another shield. Gordon swore loudly, though it was lost to the roar of the Gunships and the thunderous rumble of the portal above. More bullets rained down on him, and he had no time to do anything except take them, hiding his head beneath his arms. The force of the hits threw him off his feet, slamming into the window beneath Alyx's feet.

"_Gordon, come on…"_

Opening his eyes, Gordon looked up to see Alyx standing over him, hands pressed against the glass as she stared down at him, pleading.

"_You can do this."_

Though it hurt his hand to do so, Gordon gave her a thumbs up before wobbling to his feet, almost collapsing when he stood up. Arms weak and trembling, he brought up the Gravity Gun, and pulled another orb to him. The Gunships were coming around again.

Gordon aimed, his vision becoming blurry. The last remaining shield spun faster and faster, making it more and more difficult to time the blast.

He took a deep breath.

He fired.

This one hit, and the shields tumbled. A tremor more violent than any that came before felt like it shook the Citadel to its foundation. The shockwave that came from the reactor tossed the Gunships away, at least for the moment.

"_Yes!" _Alyx whooped.

Breen wasn't so happy, and he ranted as Gordon pulled out the final orb he would need. The weapon that would end all of this.

"_You fool! You don't know what you'll unleash! You could bring down this whole Citadel! Think, man! Think of the people below!"_

Gordon did just that. He thought about Kleiner, Barney, Eli, Mossman, Chuck, Doberman, Amanda, Tess, Simon, Cara… Alyx, stood right behind him. Everyone down below who had fought with him, who had trusted him. Some had died for him, others had died fighting for a cause… but all of them had died. Killed because of the man that was screaming at him right now. This man who condoned a genocide to further his own ambitions.

Gordon thought about the people below.

"Barney has a message for you."

He pulled the trigger and collapsed to his knees.

The orb didn't do anything at first. But then the reactor fluctuated. Grew bigger. Flashed and spasmed, bolts of energy bursting out, exploding against random objects, striking the Gunships and blowing them to pieces. A bolt of energy raced past him, shattering the window between Gordon and Alyx. She ran through and got down beside him, watching.

The portal dissipated, and the core started to fade away, almost melting into thin air.

Breen's desperate voice did much the same, distorted and garbled as the dimensional energy fed back on him, given nowhere to go now that the portal had collapsed.

"_You need me…"_

"Yes! You did it!" Alyx cried, shaking Gordon with more enthusiasm than he could physically manage.

He couldn't help the grin, though. That just wouldn't leave his face.

"Oh my God," she muttered, standing up and walking to the ledge. She was looking at the reactor, which was making an ominous noise that sounded a lot like an overload, a high pitch whine growing ever louder.

He managed to get to his feet.

"Come on, Gordon," Alyx said, eyes on the reactor as she backed up. "We've got to get out of here. Maybe we still have-"

The reactor exploded. Gordon watched Alyx bring her hands up to her face, and he did much same, closing his eyes from the brightness and the heat.

But nothing happened. The heat faded, but the brightness didn't. Slowly lowering his hand, Gordon looked around. Everything was frozen. The explosion had been caught, like a freeze-frame. It looked like a blooming flower. He looked to Alyx. She was frozen, too. Hands up in front of her face.

He tried to say her name. Nothing. He tried to move to her. His body wouldn't respond.

"Time, Doctor Freeman?"

His heart stopped. Or it may as well have. All colour faded from his surroundings, dull greys and whites and blacks replacing the olive brown of Alyx's skin, or the brilliant yellow of the explosion.

And then, like a ghost, He appeared, walking towards Gordon from some inexplicable point in the distance.

"Is it really that… time again? It seems as if you only just arrived."

He came to a stop beside Alyx, inspecting her like someone admiring a museum piece. Reaching out with His hand, He picked an imaginary piece of dust from her shoulder.

"You've done a great deal in a small time…span. You've done so well, in fact, that I've received some interesting offers for your services."

The Man turned to face him and all of Gordon's surrounding seemed to blur around him, pulled behind Him.

"Ordinarily I wouldn't contemplate them, but these are extraordinary times, hm?"

Gordon couldn't reply if he wanted to; his voice was trapped in his throat.

"Rather than offer you the illusion of free choice, I will take the liberty of choosing for you… if, and when, your time comes round again."

Clouds of multicoloured light swirled around him, surrounding, blinding.

"I do apologise for what must seem to you an arbitrary imposition, Doctor Freeman. I trust it will all make sense in the course of…"

He smirked.

"Well, I'm really not at liberty to say."

With a flash of light, Gordon was encompassed in darkness, the only object visible being Him.

"In the meantime…"

He leaned forward, as though imparting some great secret.

"…this is where I get off," he whispered.

He turned around, and walked away. A doorway of pure light appeared on his right. Slowly and calmly, the Man turned.

He adjusted his tie and stepped through the doorway.

It slammed shut behind him, leaving Gordon in darkness again, his thoughts slowing, blurring, becoming one.

_Don't let it happen_, he thought. _Keep on thinking. Keep on thinking. Keep on thinking._

_Keep…_

_On…_


	16. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I don't own _Half-Life._

_**Welcome to City 17**_

_**Epilogue**_

The darkness surrounded him. Consumed him.

Seconds passed.

Then…

Rubble flew past him, swirling in a vortex in front of him. Dr Breen's face, captured on a monitor.

"_Tell me Doctor Freeman, if you can; you have destroyed so much. What is it exactly that you have created? Can you name even one thing? I thought not."_

Gordon tried to move, found he could.

What the hell was going on?

* * *

(A/N: Well, that's all, folks. I'd like to thank everyone who stuck with this story - considering I started this in 2008, that's one hell of a commitment. I do apologise for how long this all took, but hopefully it's been worth it.

As for what's next, this little epilogue was just a tease, not a confirmation of my plans to write Episodes 1 and 2. There are lots of different obstacles in the way of writing that fic, but I won't bore you with them here. I've got ideas about what I could do with the Episodes, and I really enjoy writing Gordon and Alyx, so who knows? You might see 'Aftermath' online sooner than you expect.

But anyway, that's the future. For now, reviews please!

Thanks for reading, everybody. J

_Next Chapter: Undue Alarm… maybe)_


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